


Path of the Guardian

by CrownofStarsandInk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownofStarsandInk/pseuds/CrownofStarsandInk
Summary: War is harsh and demanding no matter which galaxy you're from. On a mission to find and destroy a strategic Separatist droid foundry, Obi-wan and Anakin find themselves once again facing the horrors of the Clone War. However, hope may not be lost as the sudden appearance of a mysterious new player might be the key to changing the tide of the war.





	Path of the Guardian

Sullust was a desolate planet at the best of times, with its barren, rocky landscape and propensity for earthquakes, but as the armies of the Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems continued their unending barrage against each other, the dark cloud of dust kicked up by hundreds of running feet (both metallic and flesh), combined with the thundering sound of blaster fire, added yet another layer of misery to the already inhospitable terrain.

The 501st Legion of the Republican army had been stationed in the northern region of Sullust for nearly a month, having been tasked with seeking out and destroying the Separatists’ latest weapons factory. What had started out as a quick in-and-out, do-not-engage mission had escalated quickly into a three-month-long series of perilous battles, culminating in each side being entrenched in the unwelcoming environment, with a mile of no-man’s-land stretching between the opposing forces.

It was during the Republic’s latest strike against the Separatist forces, with the yells of his men and the bodies of fallen clones and droids surrounding him that General and Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi wondered, not for the first time, if the Force had a twisted sense of humor. With the latest assault having already lasted for nearly two hours and his men tiring, the grey skies of Sullust opened and acid rain began to pour down upon the clashing armies.

“And here I thought we might have the good fortune to avoid yet another charming feature of this planet,” Obi-wan noted drily to his former padawan, Anakin Skywalker, who stood at his side, blue lightsaber poised and ready as they advanced across the rocky terrain.

“And here _I_ was thinking you enjoyed experiencing new planets, Master,” Anakin replied, and though Obi-wan couldn’t see his face, he could tell the younger man was grinning.

“I would enjoy it more if the planet in question wasn’t trying to kill us.”

Obi-wan then strode to the apex of the small hill upon which he and Anakin stood and looked out at the battle spread out before them. As he wiped away the water streaming down his face, he noted with grim satisfaction that if all went well today, they would finally be leaving this forsaken planet.

“How much longer until Ahsoka’s team is clear of the blast radius?” he asked, turning his attention back to Anakin, but continuing to move steadily forward with the rest of the legion as the next wave of droids began their assault.

Anakin followed right behind him, deflecting a blaster bolt into a nearby battle droid as he went. “She and Rex will com us when the detonators are in place,” Anakin explained as he continued to cut down droids with his deadly blade. “Assuming everything went according to plan, we only need to keep the droid army occupied for approximately another quarter-hour before hightailing it out of here like mynocks outta Hell.”

After countless hours of pouring over schematics and reconnaissance notes, a small entry point had been detected for a last-ditch attempt to destroy the hidden factory. With supplies running low and the stakes climbing ever higher, Anakin’s padawan, Ahsoka Tano, and clone captain Rex had been charged with leading a small infiltration team to sneak into the factory, using the current skirmish as a distraction, and set the explosives that would be triggered remotely once the team was clear.

A warning glared through the Force, and not a second later Obi-wan had somersaulted over Anakin and redirected three blaster bolts heading for his friend’s back with his own cyan lightsaber.

“A lot can happen in a quarter-hour, my friend,” he quipped in a faintly teasing tone as Anakin spun around to face the already dispatched threat. “Do not let your confidence cloud your senses.”

And with that, the two friends shared a wry smile before launching themselves once again into the oncoming onslaught.

Another few minutes passed in a flurry of motion, during which the Republic was able to push the droid army further back, forcing the machines to take cover in the rocky outcroppings of that littered the top of the underground factory.

“We can’t get much closer or we risk our own men getting caught up in the blast,” Obi-wan shouted over the booming of several canons, debris raining down around them as he spoke. He and Anakin had once again found themselves side-by-side on the battlefield as they deflected blaster bolts away from the clones that were keeping the droids pinned down.

“Maybe, but sooner or later, they’re going to notice that we’re no longer advancing,” replied the aggravated knight. “Ahsoka and Rex should’ve been outta there by now! We can’t hold this position for much longer! We’re too vulnerable!”

Obi-wan opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by a muffled cry emanating from the comlink strapped to Anakin’s wrist.

“M−ter!” called the voice issuing from the comlink. “Master, come in!” This time, the voice of Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano was clearly discernable.

Switching to a one-handed grip on his lightsaber, Anakin hurriedly answered his padawan, ”Snips! What’s your status?”

Ahsoka’s answer was almost swallowed in the sounds of the surrounding battle, but he was just able to hear “—ran into a few clanking friends—mission was a success. ETA seven minutes. We’ll meet you back at the base.”

“Copy that. Skywalker out.” Anakin hastily relayed Ahsoka’s message to Obi-wan before ordering the first wave of his troops to begin their retreat out of the blast zone.

By now the air was so congested with smoke and debris that what remained of the droid army was nearly invisible, and the continued deluge of the Sullust’s acidic rain did nothing to help matters. Only the angry red streaks of blasterfire shot through the unforgiving landscape towards the backs of the retreating clones provided the Separatist’s location. Though, to the Republic forces’ relief, they seemed hesitant in attacking an enemy, even a retreating one, which their optical sensors could not see.

Good, thought Obi-wan as troopers ran by him, heading for the safety of the base, the last thing we need is for those wretched machines to survive the blast.

Another couple of frenzied minutes passed, while the two generals and remaining clones provided cover for their retreating comrades. Finally, Commander Cody, his white and yellow clone armor streaked with grime from the day’s events, was next to Obi-wan shouting, “Sir! Commander Tano and Captain Rex are nearly clear of the blast radius!”

“Excellent, begin—“ but the order Obi-wan was about to issue was cut off as a blinding white light, followed closely by a deafening boom, filled his senses. Obi-wan, Anakin, Cody and the rest of the clone troopers were thrown back by the force of the explosion, each landing 10 feet from their original positions. Obi-wan faintly heard his former padawan grunt when his body impacted the hard earth, before ringing filled his ears and his vision went black.

Blinking blearily, Obi-wan groaned and opened his eyes only to immediately freeze in shock when the world around him finally came into focus. The sun was shining, and there was not a cloud in the sky. More than that, the debris he had grown so accustomed to over the past hours was gone as well as if it had never been there in the first place.

How long had he been unconscious? Minutes? Hours? As he gingerly made his way back to his feet, he was aware of Anakin and Cody doing the same.

“What the kriffing—“ Anakin began, but even his extensive vocabulary of expletives seemed at a loss in this instance. Together, he and Obi-wan moved forward to look into the bowl of a shallow crater, which had most definitely not been there mere moments before and were startled to see the prone figure of a young human woman lying unconscious at the bottom.

“Master, where did−“ however, Anakin once again failed to complete his thought, when the reality of their situation came crashing back into him as a searing pain erupted in his upper left arm.

“Argh!” He cried, moving reflexively to clutch the injury.

The droids had recovered from their own temporary shock, and, devoid of their earlier hesitations, were once again firing upon their opponents, the metal of their bodies clanking menacingly on the rocks as they confidently made their way forward.

“We need to get out of here!” Obi-wan shouted. With most of their troops already out of the area, their remaining forces were vastly outnumbered. Another red bolt zoomed past, barely missing Cody’s head. Obi-wan pulled Anakin away from the lip of the crater and dragged him towards the relative safety of a large boulder some meters away. Activating his lightsaber, he glanced briefly over his shoulder, “Cody, order the last of the troops to retreat back to base! Anakin and I will finish this.”

“Yes, Sir! What about the girl? Do we leave her?”

“I’ll deal with it. Just get your men out of here!”

Blaster fire continued to rain overhead, once again darkening the miraculously clear skies with smoke, leaving only shafts of the bright sun to penetrate all the way to the planet’s surface.

Briefly looking in Anakin’s direction, Obi-wan saw the younger knight nod his head in determination to continue, before hastily pulling the triggering mechanism for the bombs out of a pocket of his utility belt. They were out of time. They would have to detonate the bombs without waiting for Ahsoka’s “all-clear” and trust that she and her team could take care of themselves.

Tossing the mechanism to Anakin, who deftly caught it in his free hand, Obi-wan said, “If I’m not back in one minute, detonate the bombs. We can’t risk those droids gaining any more ground.” And without waiting for a reply, he took off in the direction of the crater.

Anakin shouted after his former master, but his friend had already disappeared into the cloud of dust.

“And he says my ideas are crazy,” he muttered drily, taking a deep breath and dispelling his pain and annoyance at Obi-wan’s recklessness into the Force. Once again activating his lightsaber, Anakin stepped from behind the boulder in order to hold off the Separatist forces as long as he could, and hopefully buy Obi-wan some more time.

He needn’t have worried though. Within seconds the elder Jedi could be seen running back towards Anakin, dodging blaster bolts as he went, his pace only slightly hampered by the weight of the woman’s body he now carried in his arms. Behind him, their beige/brown color standing out against the dull gray of the planet’s surface, an entire platoon of battle droids was following closely.

When he was 50 meters away, Anakin heard his master yell, “Detonate the bombs!”

Anakin hesitated, his thumb hovering over the button. If he triggered the bombs now, there was a good chance they would not make it out in time.

“NOW ANAKIN!”

Deciding that possible death was a better option than facing Obi-wan’s fury, Anakin quickly depressed the trigger.

The effect was instantaneous. In the distance, but still too close for comfort, an ominous silence fell and then erupted into a ferocious, almighty roar. The ground beneath them rumbled, cracked and, in some parts, began to give way. Obi-wan and his passenger were jostled but managed to keep upright. When they were nearly level with him, Anakin, for what to him felt like the millionth time, started to run for his life.

Their feet flew across the rocky ground in a Force-assisted sprint, as they pelted full speed towards the low cliffs that marked the edge of the blast radius. But even the Force might not be enough to save them from a fiery death this time. Only seconds had passed, but already they could feel the blisteringly hot wall of compressed air at their backs, burning them through their layers of tunics and tabards.

Only 100 meters to go. They could see the helmeted faces of Cody and several other clone troopers peeking out from behind the safety of the cliffs to urge them on.

50 meters. The scorching heat of the oncoming blast seemed to envelop them, making it hard to breathe.

20 meters. Their breath came in searing pants as they continued to run.

10 meters, 5, 4, 3…

Obi-wan and Anakin leaped the remaining distance and threw themselves behind the energy shields just as the blast reached them in full force.

The noise was tremendous, blocking out all thought as it continued to wail against the barrier. The ground shook, and the cliffs groaned under the strain, but they held. Finally, the sound retreated and silence once again blanketed the area.

Anakin chose that moment to speak up. Working his way into a seated position, and still panting from their mad dash across the rocky plain, he managed to choke out, “I know you’re a sucker for a damsel in distress, Obi-wan, but I can assure you, there are easier ways to pick up girls.”

Obi-wan’s only response was an exasperated shake of his head, before he gently deposited the “damsel,” as Anakin had called her, onto the ground and motioned for one of the field medics to examine her. She was still unconscious, but thankfully sported no outward signs of injury from their perilous escape.

Standing, Obi-wan joined Cody in surveying the destruction. In all honesty, thought Obi-wan humorously, it didn’t look that different from before. And indeed, the jagged hills and the clusters of boulders that primarily made up the landscape appeared to have been merely rearranged, with droid parts sprinkled here and there. The only new addition being a massive crater, marking the spot where the underground factory had been minutes previously.

Turning from the scene in front of him, Obi-wan spoke to the assembled clones, “Well men,” he said, a slight smile breaking free. “It looks like we’re going home.”

Orders were given, brisk and efficient, and soon the legion found itself back at base, packing up what was left of their supplies and preparing to depart. Morale was higher than it had been in weeks thanks to this victory, and more than once during the departure preparations Obi-wan heard a clone or two express their intense relief to finally be leaving what they called the “shithole of the galaxy.”

Obi-wan’s joy, however, was stunted. Upon arriving back at base, he had been informed by the Jedi Council, via Admiral Yularen, that their next mission was soon to be upon them. Obi-wan and Anakin, along with the 501st, had one week to resupply and replenish their numbers before their next assignment.

While they had accomplished their goal of destroying the factory, there was still much work to be done throughout the galaxy before they could call the war over. The Separatists seemed to have more heads than a hydra and refused to back down.

Day after day he saw the exhaustion etch itself a little deeper into the faces of his men, and he knew that he, Anakin and Ahsoka fared hardly any better. As it was, he had difficulty remembering the last time he has slept for more than an hour or two at a time, or even meditated without interruption.

Yes, this war was taking a toll on all of them, and Obi-wan was apprehensive as to what would be left when it was all said and done. With these sobering thoughts to keep him company, Obi-wan sought out Anakin to assist in organizing their return to Coruscant.

It was sometime later before Obi-wan found a moment to himself. After making the jump to hyperspace, Anakin had left to treat his shoulder wound and Ahsoka to meditate, leaving Obi-wan to his own devices.

He had always enjoyed watching the starlines of hyperspace. To him, they were peaceful and soothing after a long stint on one planet or another. While he had never been a huge fan of flying, Obi-wan could not deny the beauty created by the streams of stars. However, his moment of peace was not to last. Through the Force, Obi-wan could sense the presence of Commander Cody approaching him and regretfully turned away from the transparasteel window to greet the soldier.

“Cody,” Obi-wan acknowledged with a nod of his head for the trooper to speak.

“General.” Cody was never one of long greetings. “The girl is awake.”

This was good news at least. The Force had surged so powerfully when she had appeared in that crater, Obi-wan would be surprised if Master Yoda hadn’t sensed it all the way at the temple. Now that she was conscious, they could begin to gather answers.

“Thank you, Cody,” said Obi-wan, beginning to make his way to the medical wing. “I will speak to her directly.”

Picking up his com, Obi-wan selected Anakin’s frequency and waited a beat for his former padawan to answer.

“Skywalker,” came Anakin’s disgruntled voice after a moment, sounding like he had just been awakened from a nap. More than likely he had asked the med droids for a nighttime pain reliever to help him sleep.

Obi-wan held off on admonishing his one-time student and instead got right to business, “Anakin the young woman is awake. I am on my way to see her now. Please send Ahsoka down to meet me in the medical wing. I would like her to be there.”

“Wha’ d’ya need Ahsoka for?” Anakin asked in sleepy confusion. “I can help you interrogate her if that’s what you need. Ahsoka’s not nearly as intimidating as me.”

“That would be the point, Anakin. I would like another female to be present when I speak to her.”

“Why?” At this point, a laugh was evident in Anakin’s voice. “Scared you won’t be able to control yourself around your girlfriend?”

“Very funny, Padawan,” said Obi-wan in slight annoyance. “Just tell Ahsoka to meet me there.”

“Will do, Master,” came Anakin’s reply, and with that, the comlink went dead.

Obi-wan rolled his eyes as he continued down the corridor, muttering to himself, “Honestly, I don’t know where the boy gets it.”

* * *

Elena’s return to consciousness had not been pleasant. A throbbing headache had greeted her the moment she blearily opened her eyes, only to be blinded by the lights of a what she could only assume was some sort of medical bay (she had been in enough to identify the signs), and it was all downhill from there.

After she had regained her sight, Elena had been nearly startled out of her skin when a small, white and silver robot had rolled up to her and started speaking. The robot, or droid as it called itself, informed her that it wished to check her vitals, and Elena could only sit there dumbfounded staring at the droid as it began checking her pupils’ dilation.

Once it was satisfied that she was healthy, the droid announced in its metallic voice, “Thank you for your cooperation, Miss. I have notified the General that you are awake and are functioning properly. Please remain here for your escort. Your belongings are on the table next to you.” And with that, it wheeled around and began to exit the room.

Elena roused herself from her stupor and finally found her voice, calling out, “Wait!”

She hurriedly stood up off the bed, triggering a rather painful throb from her head. The pain was fleeting, and in the next instant, she had snatched up her wand and holster purse, strapped them on, and made to follow the retreating droid.

The droid had paused in the doorway (once again startling Elena with its sharp hiss) and swiveled back around to face her. “How may I assist you, Miss?” it intoned.

“Could you please tell me which realm this is?” Elena asked, gesturing around the whitewashed room. If the advanced technology surrounding her was any indication, she was no longer on Earth, not even Tony Stark had anything this sophisticated. Asgard was a possibility, though she didn’t think they utilized robots there, so maybe not.

Come to think of it, the portal she had been attempting to close hadn’t looked anything like Asgard. The landscape had been rocky and desolate, not at all similar to what Thor had described as the “golden halls of the Realm Eternal.” Svartleheim perhaps? Her musings were cut short before Elena could give the matter any further thought.

“I am sorry, I do not fully understand.” If it was possible for a droid to sound confused, this one did. “You are in the medical wing of Republic Cruiser Liberty, under the command of General Obi-Wan Kenobi. We are currently en-route to Coruscant.”

It was Elena’s turn to be perplexed. Absolutely none of the medical droid’s response had made any sense. Maybe Coruscant was a city on one of the Nine Realms. They had cities, right? She tried again, attempting to keep the impatience out of her voice.

“And on which of the Nine Realms is Coruscant located?”

However, this only seemed to further confound the droid’s artificial brain, and the sound of a fan whirring filled the space.

“I am sorry, Miss, but my database contains no records of any existing realms.” the droid responded, its metallic voice doing nothing to assuage her growing tension. “Coruscant is the capital planet of the Galactic Republic.”

“The what?” Elena had never heard of such a thing. Her head throbbed as she sat once again on the bed, her mind struggling to come up with a logical solution to what she was hearing. Not once in all her research, both magic and muggle, had she ever come across a mention of a Galactic Republic. Granted, after two years she was still getting used to the whole idea of there being eight other realms in the Milky Way Galaxy, but she didn’t think something as important as a galaxy-wide government would be left out.

“Miss, are you sure you are feeling well? I can run an additional diagnostic if you would like.”

“What? No, thank you,” was Elena’s somewhat distracted answer. “Is there a human on this ship I could speak with? No offense.” She added the last part as an afterthought. She didn’t know if she actually could offend the droid, but JARVIS always seemed to get annoyed when people didn’t trust his information.

“Of course, Miss. Please wait here for your escort.” The droid made its exit, and the door shut behind it with another hiss.

Elena didn’t even flinch this time, her mind too busy turning over the possibility that she was somewhere outside the reach of the Nine Realms. That was a frightening thought.

As the guardian of Earth, it was her responsibility to protect its people from outside forces and act as a peacekeeper on her own world. After the end of the Second Wizarding War, Elena had hoped she was in for a bit of a break, but then came Loki and his attempted hostile takeover, culminating in the Battle of Manhattan, followed shortly by the Convergence and that damn portal, and now she was—where exactly? How was she going to do her job if she wasn’t even in the same galaxy?

Once again the hiss of the door sounded, and Elena looked up from her clasped hands. Standing in the doorway were two people, one, a man, seemingly in his late twenties, with ginger hair and a matching, neatly groomed beard, wearing neutral-colored robes that had a vaguely Asian look to them, and the other, a girl. Elena gaped at her. She was orange.

Well, a russet orange if she wanted to be exact, with white markings on her cheeks and forehead. Elena was fascinated, having never seen a non-human before, and her worries were momentarily forgotten as her inner Ravenclaw got excited at the prospect. Her eyes drifted up to the girl’s hairline, where instead of hair the girl sported blue and white striped—horns? Tentacles? Elena wasn’t sure, but she made a mental note to ask. How intriguing!

“Hello,” the man said, drawing Elena’s attention back to him. “I am Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi, and this,” he said motioning to Stripes, “is Padawan Ahsoka Tano. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

So this was the general-in-charge guy the droid had mentioned. His voice was rich and cultured, with what sounded like an English accent, and he seemed to project an aura of power and serenity. Interesting, Elena thought. However, while his words betrayed nothing but politeness, Elena couldn’t help but notice the slight tensing around the corners of his eyes as he spoke.

He’s wary of me, she realized. Not fearful, but cautious.

“Hillard. Elena Hillard,” Elena said, extending her hand and returning the greeting. “It is a pleasure to meet you both as well.”

Each of them grasped her hand briefly before the man, Kenobi, spoke again. “If you would please follow us Miss Hillard we would like to speak with you before showing you to your quarters.”

This caused Elena’s hackles to rise, and she immediately grew suspicious. “Speak with” sounded a lot like “interrogate” to her ears.

“Have I done something wrong, Master Kenobi?” She asked, placing her feet on the floor.

“No, but we would like to clear up some things about your appearance on Sullust. You made quite the dramatic entrance.”

Again, he only displayed polite civility, but Elena could tell he was uneasy about something. However, she hadn’t picked up any sign that he was lying.

Seeing no alternative, Elena stood and gestured for the older man to lead the way. They walked in silence, and the group soon found itself ensconced in a small conference room, again decorated in the same whitewashed style. These people seriously needed to learn there was more to the color wheel than neutrals, Elena thought to herself. Ahsoka was the most colorful thing in the whole place as far as she could tell.

Taking her seat, Elena met Kenobi’s eyes and nodded for him to begin.

“You may not be aware, Miss Hillard, but you were found unconscious in the middle of a battlefield, having appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere.”

This was indeed news to Elena. She had no concrete memories of anything after losing control over the portal on Earth and getting sucked in. Only vague impressions lingered, and none of them specific. After the initial impact of her back onto the hard ground, a stream of blue light flashing in and out of her vision and a sensation of flying was all she could recall before waking in that medical room.

Kenobi, seemingly not noticing her preoccupation, clasped his hands in front of him on the table and continued. “Your appearance was shortly proceeded by a flash of white light and an earsplitting clap of thunder, after which you were discovered in the bottom of a crater.”

Not knowing what else to say, Elena said timidly, “That sounds like quite an impressive entrance.”

“Indeed, Miss Hillard,” Kenobi replied drily, with the slight raising of an eyebrow.

“Surely you can appreciate what difficult times these are, Miss Hillard. Master Kenobi and I only wish to know that you are not a threat to us or the Republic.” This time it was the girl, Ahsoka, who spoke. Elena had been starting to think she was mute. Her words were laced with a steady calmness that Elena had not expected. With the amount the girl had been fidgeting in her seat, she had anticipated a fair amount of impatience.

Nevertheless, her words had been full of meaning. From the sound of it, they were involved in some sort of conflict or war, which would explain the paranoia and suspicion Elena had encountered thus far. Another truth wound its way uncomfortably into the forefront of Elena’s thoughts. Her earlier misgivings had been right; this was an interrogation.

Meeting the cool blue eyes of the man sitting across from her, Elena stated in her most authoritative voice, “I mean neither you nor your Republic any harm. I am not a threat.”

Her reply was met by more silence, but she could tell the strange pair was studying her closely.

Suddenly, Elena felt a probe brush her thoughts, and without hesitation she slammed her mental shields down into place, throwing the intrusive presence out of her mind.

The reaction was instantaneous. Ahsoka gasped softly and reached for something on her belt. Kenobi, on the other hand, had stiffened as if someone had doused him in freezing water.

Elena had learned occlumency years ago during her time at Hogwarts, and though Snape had been a pain in the ass, she was, once again, grateful for the instruction.

Clenching her left hand around the handle of her wand, Elena glared at Kenobi, for she knew that it had been he who had tried to enter her mind. If there was one thing she despised it was when others attempted to intrude on her mind without permission. It was an abuse of power utilized primarily by dark wizards, and Elena could not abide by it.

When she spoke, Elena’s words were soft, but no one could mistake the tone that was just north of seething.

“Normally, when someone wants information they ask politely. Digging through another person’s head without consent is widely considered to be a violation of the worst kind, Master Kenobi.”

Only a few seconds had passed since the initial touch, but Elena could see the surprise etched onto Kenobi’s face. Serves him right, she thought viciously, however her anger was fast transforming into confusion. How had he been able to access her mind in the first place? He didn’t appear to be carrying a wand. Was this some new form of magic? These would have to be questions for later she decided.

“My deepest apologies,” Kenobi said, inclining his head slightly, with only a fraction of discomfort left on his face. “I only meant to discern if your words were true.”

“That does not give you the right to enter my mind without permission. I have no reason to lie.” Elena’s voice was hard, and her eyes never left Kenobi’s.

“That may be so, but I’m sure you can understand our need for caution.”

Elena’s already tenuous patience threatened to snap at this latest evasive response. But she managed to leash it. She could play nice a bit longer, though, Godric save her, these people were not making it easy.

“It may have escaped your notice, Master Kenobi, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Elena said derisively. “I have a few questions of my own, starting with where the Hell am I?”

Ahsoka looked at her as if confused by the question. “The medical droid said it had informed you that you were on the—,“

“I am fully aware of what this vessel is called,” Elena interrupted, her exasperation finally getting the better of her. “What I want to know is which of the Nine Realms we are on.”

Her question was met with silence, and Elena saw Ahsoka glance at Kenobi questioningly. The two shared a brief look before turning back to Elena. At last, Kenobi spoke.

“Miss Hillard, I am sorry to inform you, but I have traveled this galaxy quite extensively, and not once have I ever heard mention of a place called the Nine Realms.”

Elena’s mind went numb at these words, and dumbly, she stared at the table in front of her. This wasn’t possible. Earth, or Midgard as the other realms called it, had been the last to know of the existence of its neighbors. Now, everyone knew they shared their galaxy. It was common knowledge. But, said an apprehensive voice in her head, what if this isn’t your galaxy? She had managed to convince herself that the medical droid had been wrong, that she was still able to get home, but now all her hope and wishful thinking was being torn to shreds.

“Whatgalaxyisthis?” Elena questioned suddenly, still eyeing the table. In her distress, the words had come out choked and practically unintelligible.

“I’m sorry?” Kenobi asked, concern evident in his voice. “Miss Hillard, are you alright?”

Elena’s head snapped up to meet the startled faces of her escorts. “What galaxy is this?!” This time her words were strong, clear and demanding. She could feel her palms heat up as her earlier panic returned and knew she needed to calm down before she lost control.

“Miss Hillard, please calm down,” Kenobi said, his voice still calm, soothing even. “You are in the Galactic Republic, headed towards Coruscant.”

There was that word again. Coruscant. What was it?

Choosing to say nothing, Elena stood and made her way to one of the shuttered windows, and after a moment’s deliberation, she was able to activate the control to open the shade. Her jaw dropped. She had been expecting to see an ocean view of some sort zooming past; she was not prepared for the complete blackness of what could only be space littered with stars streaming past the windows.

Elena stumbled back from the window and looked towards Ahsoka, who was now standing, gripping what appeared to be a short metal rod in one hand. The girl’s stance was tense, and Elena could practically feel the distrust emanating from her.

“Miss Hillard?” Kenobi prompted her. This time a note of alarm permeated his voice.

Elena turned to face him, her eyes still wide. This interview was not going well, and Elena was only left with more questions than before. Deciding a truce was probably her best bet at this point, Elena drew her wand out of its holster and placed it in the middle of the large table. She felt naked as soon as she relinquished her hold on the familiar piece of wood. It was, in many ways, her life.

Kenobi studied the piece of wood in front of him for a moment before comprehension seemed to dawn in his eyes. Reaching down to his belt he removed his own silver tube and placed it beside Elena’s wand.

“Master!” Ahsoka gasped, clearly aghast at his actions.

“Ahsoka, if you would please remove your lightsabers as well,” Obi-wan said, his eyes never leaving Elena’s.

“But Master Kenobi, what if she’s a Separatist, or a Sith or— “

“Ahsoka.” This time Kenobi’s voice held a warning.

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka complied, her tone deflated.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” Elena said quietly, once all of the weapons were on the table and out of reach of their owners.

“Think nothing of it,” Kenobi replied. There was a pause, and then, “You are not from this galaxy are you?”

Elena shook her head.

“That’s impossible!” Ahsoka exclaimed but was quickly silenced by a look from her superior.

“Where are you from then, Miss Hillard, and why are you here?” While his calm exterior was still intact, Kenobi seemed to tense even more at his suspicions being confirmed.

Elena’s response was prompt. “I am from a planet called Earth in the Milky Way Galaxy.”

“And why are you here?” Kenobi reiterated.

“That I couldn’t say.” A small noise of exasperation escaped Ahsoka at these words, but Elena continued. “From what I have been able to piece together, I was brought here by accident through one of the Convergence portals.”

Seeing the blank looks on her audience’s faces, Elena elaborated.

“The Convergence is an event that takes place once every 5,000 years in my galaxy when all nine of the worlds, or realms, come into alignment and the barriers between them become blurred. Unstable portals spring up on each world near the point of alignment, and one can easily pass from one realm to another in only a step.”

Kenobi contemplated this a moment before responding, “And you believe that somehow, a portal to our galaxy was tossed into the mix as well?” His voice was even, leaving Elena with no clue as to what his thoughts were. She nodded. She couldn’t think of any other way for her to have ended up in—wherever she was…

“If these portals are so unstable, what were you doing so close to one in the first place?” Ahsoka questioned.

“It was my job,” Elena answered, turning her attention back to the orange girl. Not exactly the truth, but not a lie either. Elena wasn’t sure she trusted them enough to reveal her real position just yet. She had enough enemies and didn’t need more. “My friends and I were tasked with safely closing the portals on Earth and preventing as much damage as we could to the population of Greenwich, the alignment site.”

“Fascinating,” Kenobi said softly. “Though I would wager that something went wrong.”

Again Elena nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, the last portal I was attempting to close felt… different...more powerful than the others. It was as if the energy surrounding it was frayed, as though it had been torn from its source.” Here Elena moved her gaze to her clasped hands, feeling almost embarrassed by her defeat. “The containment spell seemed to have no effect on it, and eventually the gravity field surrounding it was too much for me, and I was sucked in. The next clear memory I have is waking up in the medical wing.”

No one spoke for some time after she finished speaking, and Elena was starting to become uncomfortable with the continued silence. Glancing up through the strands of her short blonde hair, she saw that both Kenobi and Ahsoka had their eyes closed, with looks of deep concentration on their faces. This puzzled her. What the heck were they doing?

Another few seconds passed, and slowly, both of them blinked open their eyes and focused on Elena once again.

“I sense no deceit from her, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said calmly.

“Neither do I,” Kenobi agreed, though he remained thoughtful.

Elena bristled at this pronouncement. She had thought her shields had been sturdy enough to prevent any further invasions into her mind. If the two of them had just slipped passed them…

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Kenobi spoke up not a moment later, his hands raised in a gesture of peace and a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “We were simply consulting the Force. We did not trespass upon your privacy.”

“The—What?” was all Elena managed to get out, her indignation fading away.

“The Force,” Kenobi explained, “is an energy field created by every living being. It is what gives a Jedi his power. Though, I believe that would be a talk better suited for another day.”

Elena wanted to ask what a Jedi was. Perhaps it was this galaxy’s word for wizards. That would explain why he had been able to access her mind in the first place. However, Kenobi continued before she could voice her speculations.

“While I believe that you are telling the truth, Miss Hillard, I would like to postpone judgment for the time being. In the meantime, I would like to call a recess to our discussion. We have all been subjected to a long day and could do with some much-needed rest.”

He stood, Ahsoka and Elena following, and the scraping of chairs momentarily filled the air.

“Thank you Master Kenobi,” Elena said, outstretching her hand to him, “I am grateful for your understanding.”

Kenobi shook her proffered hand, “I trust you will forgive our caution. As Ahsoka, said, these are dangerous times, and it pays to be safe rather than sorry.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I understand just how draining war can be, both mentally, and physically.”

“I am sorry,” he said, and he appeared to mean it too. His eyes had taken on a slightly haunted look to them.

“As am I,” Elena replied.

“Ahsoka will show you to your room. I trust you will be comfortable. Please do not go wandering the ship until my colleagues and I have made a decision. I will be sharing all that we have discussed with them tonight, and I would like to renew our conversation in the morning.”

“That sounds agreeable,” Elena said bending to retrieve her wand. Only once it was safely back in the holster on her thigh did she meet his piercing blue gaze again and say, “Goodnight, Master Kenobi.”

“Goodnight, Miss Hillard.”

And with that, Elena followed Ahsoka, who had once again donned her own weapons, out of the conference room.

* * *

It was another couple of hours before Obi-wan was able to retire to his room to sleep. After ending the conference with Miss Hillard earlier, Obi-wan had shared his findings with Admiral Yularen, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, and, of course, Anakin.

The four had been astonished, though somewhat skeptical, upon hearing what he had learned. Obi-wan couldn’t blame them either. The whole ordeal was a bit farfetched even for him, but in the end, the Force had confirmed what his mind could not accept: This young woman was indeed from a different galaxy than their own. Unfortunately, this realization only led to hundreds of more questions, the most prominent being, what is she?

Elena Hillard had power; that much was obvious. No ungifted person would have been able to push him out of his or her mind the way she had, and the fury he had seen burning in her green eyes when she caught him had been nearly palpable. Granted, Obi-wan _did_ feel slightly guilty for his intrusion, he was not fond of forcing his way into others’ minds, but he hadn’t seen a better option at the time.

What did puzzle him, though, was that she did not feel Force-sensitive. It was a foreign sensation, a slight buzzing of energy that seemed to surround her in a cocoon, not at all like the gentle waves of serenity normally felt in a Force-sensitive. Obi-wan had never sensed anything like it before. And then there was her casual mention of spells…

Truth be told, there were no protocols in place for this type of situation, and after much discussion, the five of them had agreed that a second round of questioning was in order to determine whether or not she posed a threat. If, after that, she was deemed to be benign, Obi-wan and Anakin would bring her before the Jedi Council.

As he sat upon his bed and began to remove his boots, Obi-wan could only wonder why it was always him that the Force seemed to enjoy throwing endless obstacles to.

“Oh, well,” he mumbled to himself as he dressed in his sleep attire. “At least she’s not a pathetic lifeform this time.”

And with that, Obi-wan settled himself into bed and was quickly asleep.

* * *

It was actually nearly midday (or what Elena assumed was midday; it was hard to tell in space) when Master Kenobi knocked on the door of the room Ahsoka had shown her to the night previous.

He greeted her with a cordial, if stiff, “Good morning,” before once again leading her through the labyrinthine hallways to yet another conference room. This one was larger than the one from yesterday, and Elena instantly saw the reason why. Four people were already seated around the table talking quietly, but when she and Master Kenobi entered, they stopped abruptly and turned their scrutinizing gazes on her.

That’s not awkward, Elena thought sarcastically, as she steadily met each pair of eyes in turn, not intimidated in the least.

Of the four people present, Ahsoka Tano was the only one she recognized, and Elena sent her a small smile, which was returned tentatively. Sitting next to Ahsoka was a young man around Elena’s own age, who sported scruffy blonde hair and a scar crossing over his right eye. He wore similar garments to that of Kenobi, though his were darker in color. He lounged casually in his seat, one bandaged arm slung across the back of it, and nodded to her, though his eyes, like Kenobi’s yesterday, were guarded.

Sitting across from Scruffy were two men Elena could only assume were twins. If it hadn’t been for the differences in their hair (one black and neatly trimmed, the other bleached blonde and buzzed), they would have been completely identical. As it was, both of them sat stiffly in their chairs, backs straight and eyes unwavering as they emotionlessly took in the new arrivals. Even without their uniform white armor, accented with yellow and blue respectively, Elena would have known instantly that these were military men. Her own father, now ten years retired from the armed forces, still held the same penetrating gaze and subtle aura of energy, as if he was ready to jump into a fight at a moment’s notice.

The room was silent for another beat before Kenobi cleared his throat, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Miss Hillard,” he said, gesturing to the scruffy man. “May I introduce Jedi Knight and fellow general, Anakin Skywalker. Ahsoka, who you remember from yesterday, is his padawan.” The blonde-haired man nodded, and Kenobi continued, next indicating the twins, “And these two men are Captain Rex and Commander Cody, Anakin’s and my right-hand men.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Elena said, bowing her head slightly. “I am Guar— Elena Hillard.”

Elena hid a slight wince. Such a stupid mistake. While she had accepted her position as her planet’s guardian years ago, it was not something she liked to spread about.

Leading her over to a seat at the head of the table between Ahsoka and Captain Rex, Kenobi pulled the chair out for her before walking around and taking his own at the opposite end.

Once he was settled he began. “I have already informed those sitting here, along with Admiral Yularen, of the discussion that took place yesterday evening and our findings.” He paused looking around the table at each of the assembled. “After much deliberation and my own consultation of the Force, we are all in agreement that you are telling the truth and are not from this galaxy.” Elena felt her spirits lift marginally at this pronouncement.

“However,” Kenobi continued, his voice taking on a much more serious tone. “we must still determine whether or not your presence poses a threat to the Republic. If you are able to answer our questions satisfactorily, you will be allowed to remain as a free person and not taken into custody.”

But no pressure, Elena added mentally. Kenobi’s eyes were unwavering as they held hers, and it was unsettling to realize that he was in earnest. If these people thought her a threat, they wouldn’t hesitate to lock her up “for the greater good,” even if she had so far done nothing wrong.

“Do you agree to these terms, Miss Hillard?” The twin to Kenobi’s right asked.

Irritation began to fill her veins. What sort of questions could they possibly ask that would present her in a non-threatening light? Her powers alone would mark her as a threat, and she wasn’t about to allow herself to be treated as a criminal for no good reason. She had her own galaxy to get back to for Merlin’s sake! She didn’t have time to languish in some gods-forsaken cell in some galaxy far, far away!

No, these terms were not acceptable. They needed to know _her_, and not the shortsighted version they were bound to get if they stuck to their questioning. Who did they think they were anyway? Why should she trust them to know what was for the best? Kenobi may be a general in this galaxy and gifted with powers of his own, but what right did that give him to decide her fate? He had no jurisdiction over her.

Elena needed her own assurances and her own questions answered. Kenobi and Tano had beat around the bush yesterday, and she was not going to wait any longer. There was only one thing to do, but it would mean taking a large risk.

“No,” Elena said at last, her demeanor calm and unfazed as she stared steadfastly at the man seated across from her. “I do not find these terms acceptable, Master Kenobi.”

The others sitting around the table shifted uncomfortably and looked about ready to interject, but Elena didn’t give them to chance.

Speaking to the table at large now, Elena pushed on. “I find these terms to be unsuitable because I believe that your questioning would only provide you with an incomplete interpretation of my character. If you are to make an unbiased decision, you need all the facts. Would you not agree, Master Kenobi?” Elena concluded, locking eyes once again with the copper-haired man.

A thoughtful silence presided over the table. Elena could feel the questioning eyes of the four others on her, but she refused to remove her gaze from Master Kenobi’s piercing blue one.

“What do you suggest then, Miss Hillard?” Kenobi asked, his curiosity peaked.

Elena drew in a slow breath and confidently replied, “Legilimency. I propose creating a temporary telepathic link in order to share with you my experiences and my character. In other words,” she said, a small smile starting to creep onto her face, “I will give you permission to enter my mind and find the answers you seek, Master Kenobi, on one condition.”

“And that would be?” Kenobi intoned flatly.

This was it. “That you grant me the same privilege,” Elena said, her green eyes unyielding.

This time the stunned silence lasted only a second before the sandy-haired man seated on Kenobi’s right broke it.

“Absolutely not!” He practically shouted, now glaring at Elena.

The twin in yellow armor quickly joined him. “It is out of the question for a general of the Republic to allow his mind to be invaded by an outsider.”

Elena had been expecting this sort of reaction, but it was still disappointing. Her future as a fugitive in this galaxy was looking more and more certain by the second.  
However, as the two men continued to bluster their objections and accusations, Kenobi remained contemplative, with his arms crossed over his chest and one hand idly resting on his scruff-covered chin.

“—must be a Separatist spy for—,“ Kenobi held up a hand silencing the flow of protestations.

“I agree to your terms,” he said, leaning forward slightly and folding his hands in front of him on the table.

“Obi-wan!”

“Sir!”

Both Skywalker’s and Cody’s objections rang out before being cut off by a severe look from the general.

Kenobi continued as if there had been no interruption, “I do have one question I would like answered, though, before we go through with this, if you will indulge me.”

Elena considered him for a moment and then nodded. Compromise was always key in negotiations.

Kenobi acknowledged her assent with a nod of his own. “Very well then. This might sound rude, but what exactly are you?”

At this Elena couldn’t suppress a small laugh, though it was more from frustration than actual giddiness. What a loaded question that was.

“Is something funny?” Asked Skywalker, as Elena’s laugh diminished to a soft chuckle.

Elena composed herself and faced the young man, the ghost of a smile still playing on her lips. “No, Knight Skywalker, there isn’t. Master Kenobi’s question took me by surprise is all. I was laughing, because there is no simple response.”

“What makes it so complicated?” Asked Ahsoka, speaking up for the first time.

Elena turned her attention to the alien girl and steeled herself.

“I proposed the use of legilimency because I do not believe I will be able to adequately answer all of your questions without forming further distrust. However, in the interest of answering Master Kenobi’s question, I am, at a fundamental level, a witch,” Elena explained.

“Like a magic witch? With spells and whatnot?” Skywalker asked disbelievingly.

The inelegantly phrased question caused Elena’s calm exterior to break and she once again started chuckling.

“Yes, Knight Skywalker,” she said through her giggles, pulling her wand out of its holster on her left thigh. “I am a fully qualified witch, with magic spells and all.” To prove her point, she gave her wand a slight flick and conjured up six glass goblets and a matching pitcher in mid-air, before guiding them to rest gently on the table.

“_Aguamenti!_” Elena murmured, now pointing her wand to the empty pitcher, which instantly filled with clear, cool water.

Elena would have been lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed seeing the dumbstruck looks on their faces.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Captain Rex said in a would-be-calm voice, carefully picking up the beautifully crafted goblet in front of him and examining it. “I don’t suppose you can do that with the Force, Generals?”

A smattering of chuckles permeated the conference room in response to the captain’s question, and Elena felt the stifling tension that had permeated the room begin to dissipate.

“I assume this is safe to drink?” Skywalker asked, reaching for the pitcher of water situated in the middle of the metallic table and pouring himself a glass. “Dying a horrible death is not really high on my list of things to do.”

“That’s news to me,” Ahsoka quipped, removing the delicate pitcher from her master’s hands. “With the amount you throw yourself into hazardous situations, I assumed dying was the end goal.”

“I resent that, Snips,” Skywalker said in mock offense, sipping his water. “My plans are innovative.”

“That’s certainly one word for it, Sir,” Rex piped up, a grin on his face.

Elena smiled. The exchange of easy-going banter seemed to act as a balm to her frayed nerves. It reminded her of the conversations she and her two best friends, Elyse and Marie, would engage in during their university days. They would talk for hours, teasing each other about this, that, and the other and imagining what their lives would be like when they graduated.

Inevitably, these conversations always ended in the wee hours of the morning with the singing of the Genovian National Anthem, much to their neighbors’ displeasure, and more than one empty bottle of wine.

Kenobi, Elena realized, was also wearing a slight smile as he observed the continued repartee between master and padawan, though the rest of his body remained tense. Turning away, he met her gaze before clearing his throat once again to gather the room’s attention.

“I must say, Miss Hillard, I have never seen anyone conjure anything tactile before. Unfortunately, all of our previous run-ins with witches have not been quite so friendly.”

At this, Skywalker tilted his head back and let loose a derisive laugh. Kenobi shot him an exasperated look, which the younger man tactfully ignored.

Refocusing his attention back on Elena, Kenobi continued with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “You did say witchcraft is only the foundation of your power. Forgive my confusion, but what else is there?”

Elena hesitated and moved her gaze to her primly clasped hands, sitting atop the gleaming metallic surface of the table. She hadn’t planned on playing 20 questions and divulging the extent of her powers before allowing Kenobi into her mind. It defeated the purpose of using legilimency in the first place.

“What is a Jedi? Elena asked suddenly, attempting to stall for time. The question had been on her mind since their initial meeting the day before, and the curiosity was killing her.

“Don’t you have—?” Rex began sounding astonished, cutting off abruptly as Cody’s elbow found his ribs in a smarting jab.

Elena’s amusement at the pair was short-lived as her eyes once again turned to regard the general sitting across from her.

“A Jedi,” said Kenobi slowly, as if measuring each word, “is a person who is, what we call, Force-sensitive. Trained from a young age, Jedi are sworn to protect peace and justice throughout the galaxy.”

“Oh,” Elena said in mild surprise, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks. She had not been expecting such a gallant answer. “A noble calling if ever I heard one, though I would wager there’s more to it than that. What exactly does Force-sensitivity entail?”

It was Skywalker who answered her this time. “Force-sensitives are gifted with a variety of abilities, ranging from telekinesis to clairvoyance,” was his straightforward, yet vague answer. “While every Jedi may share fundamental skills, they range greatly in their strengths and weaknesses.”

“Very well said, Anakin,” Kenobi commented lightly. “It appears you did pay attention to my teachings.”

“Only to the interesting stuff, Master,” Skywalker replied cheekily. Turning back to Elena he added, “I believe you have yet to answer the question, Miss Hillard.”

It looked like her extra thinking time was up. Biting her lower lip, Elena considered. It would be a great risk to reveal the extent of her powers, but if Kenobi had already agreed to her earlier suggestion, then it was unlikely that she would not be given a chance to explain. It was all or nothing now.

“I am the Guardian of Earth, my home planet, and in being so, I am endowed with gifts beyond that of your average witch or wizard,” Elena began, choosing her words carefully. “When I was chosen at the age of nine to succeed the previous guardian, I gained the ability to manipulate the four fundamental elements of magic.”

“Whoa! Hold up a second,” Skywalker interrupted, raising his good arm in the air. “What exactly does that mean?”

Ahsoka groaned and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

“What?” Skywalker asked switching his attention back to his padawan. “Did that make sense to you, Snips?’

“No, but I have a feeling she was about to explain it,” Ahsoka replied, leveling a playful glare on her master.

Anakin opened his mouth to reply but stopped when he caught Kenobi’s reproachful eye.

“Anyways,” Elena continued hurriedly before any more interruptions could occur. “The short version of this story is that being the guardian enables me to manipulate the four elements that are key in both the magical and physical make-up of my planet: air, water, earth, and fire,” She explained, ticking off each element with her fingers as she spoke. “If you want to know more afterward, please feel free to ask questions.” And with that, Elena folded her arms across her chest and allowed herself to slouch back into her seat, her gaze drifting to the window and its endless lines of stars.

Elena was already tired and the meeting hadn’t even lasted an hour yet. She could hear the commander and Kenobi discussing something at the other end of the table, but couldn’t find the energy to pay much attention at the moment. Her eyes glazed over as she continued to stare, literally, into space, and permitted her mind wander. The day had been chaotic enough, and she was ready for some time to herself to just sit and think without the pressure of upholding a professional veneer.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait.

The scraping of chairs sounded, and Elena once again focused her attention on the now-standing, eldest Jedi.

“Well, Miss Hillard,” Kenobi began, walking around the table and offering her his hand. “Shall we?”

A wry smile twisted the corners of his lips, and Elena couldn’t stop the upturning of her own as she placed her hand into his larger one and stood.

“Indeed, Master Kenobi,” She resolutely agreed. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Obi-wan was restless. To say that Elena Hillard had given him a great deal to think about would have been an understatement. Ever since she had appeared on that Force-forsaken planet, she had been a source of great curiosity and unease. Obi-wan had lived his entire life knowing his place in the universe, serving and protecting the galaxy, as was his duty as a Jedi. Now, he found himself struggling to comprehend the sudden shift his reality had taken. A foreign galaxy, and a non-unified one at that, had the potential to change the very foundations of their existence, though whether that change was for good or ill remained to be seen.

He had never expected to be granted access to her mind, and Obi-wan had to release his excitement at the idea into the Force. It was a privilege he had not expected but was no less grateful for. To see a new galaxy, even if it was through the memories of another, would be a treat.

Obi-wan led the younger woman through the halls of the cruiser to the residential wing of the ship, turning right, then left, then left again until they reached the spare room he had converted into a meditation chamber some months previous. Even with a wall of duratsteel dividing his and Anakin’s respective rooms, Obi-wan found that his former padawan’s thunderous snores were still audible through the sturdy metal. After three consecutive nights of trying, and failing, to achieve the serenity required for meditation, Obi-wan conceded defeat and was forced to procure an alternative solution.

The room he had converted was by no means spacious. It had originally been listed as a storage unit, but after shoving all of the bins and crates against the far wall, there had been just enough space for two meditation tuffets. There was even a window to view the stars from.

“It’s not much, but I believe it should suffice,” Obi-wan said, gesturing for Elena to take a seat on one of the tuffets, as the pneumatic door hissed shut behind them. “To be quite honest, I’ve never encountered a person outside the Jedi who willingly let me into his or her mind before, so comfort has never been an issue.”

“You make it sound as though you invade people’s minds quite frequently,” Elena replied somewhat stiffly, her apprehension taking over as she arranged herself comfortably atop the low, cushioned seat.

“Jedi typically avoid tampering with the minds of others whenever possible, though I admit there are times when it has the ability to be quite useful.”

Elena was quite as Obi-wan sat upon his own tuffet and crossed his legs in front of him. She wasn’t sure what to think about that pronouncement, and instead opted to change the subject.

“Where are the others? Won’t your friends be concerned that I’ll corrupt your mind or something if we’re left alone?”

“Oh, we’re hardly alone,” Obi-wan said dismissively. “I can sense Anakin standing guard just outside the door.”

Elena gave the door a quizzical look. “Seriously?” she asked in disbelief.

“Anakin is very protective, but he won’t disturb us without cause.”

Shrugging, Elena refocused on the task at hand, her attitude businesslike. “Well then, how would you like to go about this?”

“If you have no objections, I will enter your mind first.” When Elena remained silent he continued. “Please try and relax your mind and lower any barriers. Do you have any experience with meditation?”

“I attended a yoga class a few times in college.”

At Kenobi’s bemused expression, Elena elaborated, “It’s like a stretching and muscle control class that—you know what? Never mind. The point is I know the basics.”

Kenobi nodded, “Very well then. Let us begin.”

He closed his eyes and Elena followed suit, shifting to fold her own legs in front of her as she did. Meditation was not a skill she practiced often. More often than not, the relaxed state required for it would send her straight to sleep.

Inhaling slowly through her nose, Elena counted to four before exhaling for another count of four. Inhale for four, exhale for four. Minutes passed with only the sound of her and Kenobi’s breathing disturbing the quiet of the room as Elena focused on removing the fortifications surrounding her thoughts.

When the last of the barriers had been carefully lifted away, Elena could not help but feel exposed, her skin beginning to itch at the very thought.

She felt the word more than heard it as a strange sensation filled her mind.

“Relax,” the quiet voice ordered softly. Elena immediately felt her shoulders droop, bereft of their prior tension, as a calming influence seeped into her very bones. The voice continued murmuring inside her head, and Elena felt her mind drift into the peaceful silence of meditation.

Minutes or hours could have passed and Elena would have been none the wiser. The outside world had drifted away, leaving only a sensation of absolute tranquility, and all she could do was bask in the quietude and stillness of her mind.

Too soon, Elena felt a nudge against her consciousness and an accompanying flash of annoyance from herself. Perhaps if she just ignored it, she could return to the tranquil waves of nothingness. The foreign presence nudged her mind again, this time more insistently.

Loosing her frustration, Elena prepared to send a mental barb back towards the invading presence, when an image of a man filled her mind. A copper-haired man with steady blue eyes. Obi-wan, her mind supplied. Elena felt a flush of embarrassment for having lost herself so wholly in the meditation, and again Kenobi’s presence brushed her consciousness, this time in a soothing fashion. Elena acknowledged the gesture and projected two words into the serene void, “I’m ready.”

Having never before opened her mind so completely to anyone before, Elena did not know what to expect from the experience. She welcomed Kenobi’s presence into her own consciousness and let go of her control until she was merely riding shotgun in a tour of her own mind.

As Kenobi perused her childhood memories, images of her home in Texas flashed before her eyes. Some were vivid, as if she could simply reach out her hand and touch the rough wood of the pecan tree that stood in her family’s backyard. When they were young, she and her twin brother would climb that tree and toss the nuts down for their younger sister to gather in her little blue bucket for the three of them to feast on later. Others were barely discernable as if a veil had been placed over the memory, obscuring and distorting it, leaving behind on a faint trace of color and emotions long past.

The images continued to come as Kenobi’s examination moved on to her time at Hogwarts. Here he spent more time observing her memories of the magic school and the rest of the Wizarding World, seemingly fascinated with what he saw. Memories of quidditch games Elena had attended were scrutinized, and class lectures were closely examined. No detail was too insignificant, and the Jedi seemed to delight in each new aspect of the foreign world he witnessed through her mind.

The images were coming faster now as her captivated guest continued his exploration. While Kenobi’s presence was as gentle as he could make it, Elena could not help the onslaught of emotions that resurfaced with each remembrance.

She was 13 and had accidentally set her potions essay on fire when she touched it.

She was 16 and nervous as she stood watching the champions of the Triwizard Tournament ready themselves for the Second Task, the dark waves of the lake in turmoil as they reacted to her anxiety.

She was 18, staring down at the mutilated body of Mad-Eye Moody as the horrific reality of Voldemort’s continued rise came crashing down upon her.

Panic began to rise in Elena’s stomach as this final series of images streaked across her mind’s eye. She knew what came next. Recoiling, her mind instinctively attempted to protect itself from the memories, not wanting to bring them forward.

She couldn’t control it. They were coming too fast. There was no stopping them.

She was 20, and there was only pain.

* * *

The old man was screaming again. Elena wished he would stop, as the shrill noise was only serving to add “headache” to her ever-growing list of aches and pains. Huddled in the corner of her stone cell, with scarcely enough energy to lift her head from the ice-cold floor, she briefly contemplated the merits of voicing her complaints but was quick to discard the notion. It had been three days since her last meal, and, though she hated herself for it, she was not about to jeopardize her chance for food today.

Her stomach growled and Elena shifted, enchanted chains clinking softly as she searched in vain for a more comfortable position. Sleep had become a welcome escape during the past two months of her imprisonment. It allowed her to forget, if only for a few hours, this Hell she was currently living, though the inability to make herself comfortable on a hard, stone floor had led only to many sleepless nights and an increased sense of exhaustion.

Closing her eyes, Elena balled herself up as tight as she could, hoping to preserve as much body heat as possible. The frigid November air had been only too happy to seep into her bones, chilling her to the core. The putrid smell of mildew coated the inside of her nose as Elena filled her lungs, focusing on pooling all of her remaining energy into the palm of her right hand before gradually allowing it to extend past the confines of her body.

The process was slow, excruciatingly at times, but Elena knew she needed to be careful and not rush. The chains, which bound Elena to the floor of her cell, had been charmed by none other than You-Know-Who himself with a spell of his own devising, or so he had boasted. Either way, they prevented her from accessing any of her elemental powers, and, as she had discovered during the first night of her stay, had the wonderful bonus feature of delivering agonizing shocks to her system whenever she tried. However, after some rather painful trial and error, Elena had found that if she used only the slightest amount of energy possible, she was able to produce a pinprick of a flame.

Come on, she thought, just a little more… and slowly, the flame appeared, a small red spec hovering an inch or two above her palm. Its marginal light sent shadows dancing upon the wall of the cell and Elena felt her spirits lift at the sight. Even though the rest of the small space was shrouded in an oppressive semi-darkness, this seemingly insignificant spark was enough to hold it back.

Elena lay there for several minutes gazing lazily at the flickering red form of the minuscule flame as it danced merrily over her fingertips. Her eyes grew heavy, and Elena knew she would not be able to maintain the spark much longer.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the feeblest of drafts caused the flame to sputter and die. Closing her eyes against the all-consuming darkness, Elena curled up as best she could and let the tears spill down her face.

The door to her cell crashed open, and Elena was briefly disoriented as she felt her body lift from the floor and slam forcefully into the wall behind her, knocking the wind from her lungs. The spell did not release her and instead continued to pin Elena to the wall, the rough stones digging into her back. Coughing and struggling to draw breath, Elena clenched her eyes shut, and attempted to let loose of a string of her choicest expletives.

A cackle of delighted female laughter echoed throughout the cramped cell, drowning out the rest of Elena’s curses.

“Filthy blood, filthy mouth,” it sang. “It’s fitting is it not, my lord?” The woman’s voice was filled with a cruel glee, and Elena felt her insides contract in disgust.

Holding back her lungs’ remaining spasms as well she could, Elena pried her watering eyes apart to look defiantly into the scarlet ones of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. At least, that was her intent. She had a feeling she appeared more terrified than anything else. His looming presence seemed to fill the entirety of the cell like some dark oppressive cloud engulfing her fully in despair and hopelessness.

You-Know-Who’s personal visits to her cell were infrequent but always horrible. He would appear suddenly, the darkness embracing him as he prowled through the dank cell. Sometimes he would speak, his voice as gentle as a nightmare; other times he would remain taciturn, a silent shadow in the dark ruthlessly tearing through her mind. However, this time was different. Tonight he was accompanied by an obscenely eager Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Now now, Bella,” the Dark Lord crooned ominously in his cold, high-pitched voice. “Hillard’s repugnant blood is not why we are here this evening.”

Bellatrix let out another dark guffaw at these words but kept her wand steady as she continued to hold Elena against the icy stone.

Speaking once again to Elena, the Dark Lord moved further into the cramped cell until he was standing within arm’s reach of the restrained witch.

“Such a pity,” he murmured softly, his eyes roving over her pitiful form, still clothed in the now ruined dress robes she had worn to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. “You could have been great, Elena Hillard. You needed only have the courage to see beyond your limitations and embrace the wonders my new world has to offer.”

“Delusions of grandeur if you ask me,” Elena choked out in reply, willing herself to appear fearless as she lifted her head and glared daggers into the red, snakelike eyes of the Dark Lord himself. Fury flooded her veins as she took in his inhuman appearance. In the near darkness of the cell, his ghostly white skin was even more distinct, making him appear as an ominous specter emerging from the surrounding gloom. Only his red eyes, as bright as coals, gave any semblance of life to the otherwise corpse-like body.

“I find I grow tired of your obstinacy and continued refusal of my most generous offer,” he sighed in a voice that Elena would have mistaken for boredom if she hadn’t been able to see the wrath in his gaze. “I believe it is time we renewed our conversation regarding Potter and the rest of your insufferable Order friends.”

Silence reigned once more in the cell, and not even Bellatrix, her dark, hooded eyes trained on her master like a loyal dog, dared to break it. Another minute stretched on before Elena felt it; a creeping wrongness that did not belong, the feeling of her mind being invaded by an outside source. Unfortunately, Elena had become far too accustomed to You-Know-Who’s presence in her mind not to recognize his signature.

The main barriers around her mind had long since fallen, her mental exhaustion having become too great to maintain them, however, there was still a small corner of her mind she had thus far managed to keep closed, where she hid her most valuable and precious memories from the prying minds of the Dark Lord and his followers.

She contracted these remaining mental walls now, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she forced herself to block out her turbulent emotions and exhaustion in order to concentrate. As the strain on her mind increased, Elena began to feel light-headed but held fast to her remaining control. She would die before falling to this contemptuous snake, though Elena secretly hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

After several intense minutes of mental battle, the pressure on her mind abated, leaving her with the lingering sense of the Dark Lord’s frustration. Out of breath and dizzy as she was from the attack, Elena almost missed his next words spoken harshly as his scarlet eyes narrowed on her.

“You fear death, Elena Hillard. That much is clear, though death is not what is waiting for you here. Indeed, I think you’ll come to long for such an end soon enough.”

Slowly and deliberately Voldemort raised his wand, affording the movement the same care a conductor of an orchestra might at the start of a celebrated symphony. When his wand reached chest height, he paused and seemed to drink in the moment before hissing quietly, almost lovingly, “_Crucio!_”

In a flash, blinding pain tore through her entire being, and for a moment Elena thought she would indeed die from the pure agony of it. Her vision went dark as the pain increased, slithering down into her neck and spine. All coherent thought was lost to Elena as her screams filled the small chamber. She was conscious of nothing but the pain and her body’s weak writhing as it attempted to shield itself. The attack was unrelenting, and the torture continued until Elena’s throat was raw and she could scream no longer.

After what felt like hours, the pain gradually, mercifully, retreated. The shadow of her torment just moments before seeming to linger in her aching bones, as Elena once more became conscious of the press of cold stone beneath her cheek, Bellatrix’s restraining spell having been released at last. Cruel laughter echoed above her, and Elena’s eyelids fluttered as she struggled to open them, but she could not find the strength. As her remaining consciousness quickly ebbed away, Elena couldn’t help but feel that death would indeed be a gift.

* * *

Obi-wan was still reeling from what he had seen when he was abruptly jolted out of the joint mediation. Blinking rapidly to clear the remnants of the vision from his physical eyes, Obi-wan was startled by the sight that greeted him — Anakin was standing in the middle of the cramped room with his back to him and the luminous blue blade of his lightsaber aimed straight at Elena Hillard’s heart.

“Anakin! What are you—?”

“What happened?” the younger Jedi demanded, not taking his eyes off Elena. The question was nearly shouted, resonating through the Force, where Obi-wan could feel Anakin’s roiling emotions.

Obi-wan quickly extricated himself from his meditative pose and swiftly gripped Anakin by his shoulder, roughly swinging his former padawan around to face him. However, he was only halfway successful as Anakin countered the move, managing to angle himself so that his blade never left its target.

“Anakin, what in the stars are you doing?” Obi-wan asked, completely nonplussed by the younger man’s actions. His grip on Anakin’s shoulder remained firm, and Obi-wan once again attempted to force his friend away from the young woman still seated on her tuffet, her green eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Anakin resisted Obi-wan’s renewed attempts to refocus his attention and instead barked out, “Obi-wan, what happened? What did she do?”

Sighing, Obi-wan released his hold on Anakin’s shoulder, realizing nothing would be accomplished if he could not convince Anakin to calm down. Slowly, so as not to agitate him further, Obi-wan moved to stand between Anakin’s outstretched blade and the spooked Elena. The blade hummed gently in his ears as Obi-wan locked eyes with the young Jedi Knight, his friend, and spoke in a calm even tone, “Anakin, lower your blade. That’s an order.”

Anakin hesitated a moment, before the steel in his gaze softened slightly, and he complied. He did not, however, return the deactivated blade to his belt, opting instead to keep it fisted tightly in his right hand.

Shaking his head at Anakin’s stubbornness, Obi-wan had to suppress an exasperated noise before he said, “Would you mind telling me what caused you to interrupt our mediation and threaten Miss Hillard with a lightsaber?”

Anakin didn’t answer immediately. Sighing, he sat heavily down on Obi-wan’s recently vacated tuffet and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Reaching out with the Force, Obi-wan could feel that Anakin’s previously turbulent emotions had subsided into a more reasonable state. Sending him a wave of reassurance through their old Master/Padawan bond, Obi-wan waiting patiently for Anakin to speak.

“I was worried about you, Master,” Anakin said running a gloved hand through his sandy-blonde hair.

“I gathered that. What I’m interested in is what caused you to be so worried that you felt the need to come running in, figurative guns blazing?”

Anakin’s cool blue gaze met his own when he next spoke. “You were screaming, and Miss Hillard—,“ he broke off to send a venomous glare at the woman in question. “Miss Hillard would not let go of the mediation. I had to forcibly insert myself into your minds in order to end the session.”

That gave Obi-wan pause. He didn’t remember screaming, though that did explain, if not excuse, Anakin’s current level of distress.

Taking advantage of Obi-wan’s silence, Anakin pushed off his knees to stand once more before continuing in a menacing tone, “So, now what I want to know is what _Elena Hillard’s_—,“ he spat her name like a curse, “—end game is.”

Anakin had made it all of two steps toward Miss Hillard, his movements that of a predator stalking his prey when Obi-wan regained his composure. Flinging out an arm, Obi-wan braced a hand on Anakin’s chest, halting his progress. Anakin’s eyes didn’t leave Miss Hillard’s, and for a moment he strained against Obi-wan before relenting under his mentor’s severe gaze.

Thankful that the worst of the tension seemed to have passed, Obi-wan turned and addressed Miss Hillard, whose face was once again set in an impassive mask. “Will you please excuse us for a moment, Miss Hillard? I would like to have a word with Anakin.”

He barely waited for her nod of consent before half-dragging the younger man out of the meditation room by his tunic. Once the door had shut behind them, Obi-wan continued another ten paces down the hall before rounding on Anakin.

“Was that necessary?” he said in a frustrated whisper.

“What? Are you saying you don’t honestly believe she had anything to do with whatever just happened?” Anakin countered, not backing down an inch as he extracted himself from Obi-wan’s hold.

“Of course she did! As I know you are aware Anakin, I was delving through Miss Hillard’s mind, of course she was part of what happened, but that doesn’t make it her fault.”

Anakin let out an exaggerated huff, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Please explain that astounding logic, Obi-wan. You were screaming your head off and she was sitting there as serene as a Loth cat with a mouse.”

Obi-wan’s sighed loudly through his nose. Anakin had a way of wearing even his saint-like patience to the breaking point. Turning away from his former padawan, Obi-wan ran a hand through his cropped hair as he allowed his frustration to flow out of him and into the Force. A heavy silence stood between the two friends, neither knowing exactly how to proceed.

Obi-wan wasn’t even entirely sure what had caused him to be sucked so deeply into her mind. Now that the meditation had ended, all of the scenes he had seen of Elena’s life seemed to blur together, forming a twisting cloud of color in his mind. It was maddening. At the time, he hadn’t realized how fast he had been moving through her mind, wanting to take in as much information as possible. Only the last memory remained crystal clear. Obi-wan blew out another short breath and faced the younger Jedi, and if Anakin didn’t know any better, he would say his old master looked slightly abashed.

“During my examination, I became caught up the newness and the, well, the distinct otherness of her galaxy. I was so focused on seeing and learning all I could that I accidentally pulled the both of us fully into one of her more painful memories.” Obi-wan looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose. “In short, I lost control.”

Anakin was stunned. In all the time he had known him, Obi-wan had never once allowed himself to lose control, and yet here he was admitting to just that. He was silent for another moment before speaking.

“That wasn’t just a memory, Obi-wan,” he said in an agitated whisper. “You were _reliving_ the past—her past!” Anakin was becoming more and more troubled the longer he spoke. “We know next to nothing about her or her powers! For all we know, she could have planted that memory there to weaken your mind.”

But Obi-wan knew it was no ploy. He may have caused this mess, but if any good had come out of it, it was his unwavering conviction that the woman sitting in the room not 20 feet away would sooner die than allow others to suffer when it was in her power to prevent it.

He had seen through her memories the conjured flames that twisted around her body, licking her fingers as she bent them to her will. He had seen the way water leaped to do her bidding, and how the very earth moved at her touch. He had felt the wind as it whipped through her hair, calling to her, a siren’s song impossible to resist, and coupled with all of this, was the ever-present pulse of magic that reigned in her veins, amplifying her abilities tenfold. And yet Obi-wan knew that this awesome power—a power to shape the worlds—was as uncontrolled as it was tame. It was a balance, a push and pull, between self and a power so immense, that Obi-wan was in awe that in all her years of protecting her planet, Elena had never once been tempted to upset that balance, not even to save herself.

Obi-wan looked sternly up at his friend, his blue eyes as cold as steel, “Search your feelings Anakin. You know that is not true.” Anakin looked ready to interrupt, but Obi-wan pressed on.“

“From what I can tell, I accidentally triggered a repressed memory during my perusal of her mind,” he grimaced before adding, “To make a long story short, it was not pleasant.”

“What was the memory about?”

Obi-wan paused before answering simply, “Torture.”

“What—?”

“Not now Anakin,” Obi-wan snapped. “I’ll explain it all later. Right now we need to see to Miss Hillard, and I need to uphold my end of the bargain.”

The young knight huffed in clear annoyance but fell silent for the time being as he followed Obi-wan back to the makeshift meditation chamber.

An uneasy silence filled the cramped space as the two Jedi strode once more into the surrogate meditation chamber. Both were clearly irritated, but while Kenobi hid his behind a mask of cool indifference, Skywalker had no qualms with letting his features settle into a stony expression as he stood sentry by the entrance.

At least, Elena thought, he seems to have summoned the restraint to remain quiet. Kenobi only spared his disgruntled partner half a glance before once again settling himself atop his meditation cushion.

Ignoring the glare Skywalker was currently sending her way, Elena rose to her feet, her wand clutched tightly in her left hand. She had only used legilimency twice before, and both times had been less than pleasant experiences. Even though she suspected that had more to do with her victims’ unwillingness to comply than her lack of skill with the magic, she was still unsure of the effect it would have on the general sitting calmly before her. After his careful treatment of her mind, she felt it only right to repay the favor in kind.

Elena positioned herself in the middle of the room, the soles of her boots squeaking lightly on the metal of the floor as she settled into a comfortable casting stance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skywalker tense in anticipation, ready to jump to his friend’s defense.

Elena continued to ignore the looming young man and searched out Kenobi’s eyes. Silently, the jedi nodded, solemnly confirming his intention to proceed.

Well, here goes nothing, Elena thought as she raised her wand and took careful aim. The tip of her wand directed squarely between Kenobi’s steady blue eyes.

Kenobi held her gaze a moment longer before deliberately closing his eyes and relaxing his body and mind.

Elena waited one heartbeat, then two, before saying in a clear, determined voice, “_Legilimens!_”

* * *

As soon as Elena returned to her borrowed room, she flopped face-first onto the bed and groaned loudly into the mattress. She was exhausted. Playing the politician always took a lot out of her mentally, but never before had she had to do it while suffering the effects from an unexpected impact onto an unknown planet’s surface.

Elena supposed whatever pain killers the medical droid had given her had worn off sometime during the previous night, leaving her to feel the full extent of the aches and pains from her impromptu collision onto a pile of rocks. A glance the in the bathroom mirror this morning had revealed a veritable canvas of multicolored bruises stretching across the expanse of her still-healing back. The damaged muscles had only grown sorer and stiffer as the day went on, until it was all Elena could do to hide the wince each movement caused.

A small part of her mind noted that she could probably heal the bruises herself using one of the spells in her copy of _The Healer’s Helpmate_, but decided against it. The bruises weren’t life-threatening, or debilitating, so she didn’t see the point. They’d be gone in a couple of days anyway.

Pain pulsed through her head as soon as the thought crossed her mind, and Elena growled bitterly. Of _course_ a headache would decide to appear right at this moment. She could feel it blossoming above her right temple, dully pounding in time with her heartbeat. She should have expected this, though, after the amount of mental acrobatics she had had to perform throughout the day.

Strike exhaustion. That she could work through. Right now, she was done.

It had started when Elena had first arrived at her room the night before, fully intending to drown herself in a nice long shower. She had been halfway to relaxing beneath the steady pounding of the steaming spray, when the water had abruptly shut off, leaving her with a head full of suds slowly dripping down her back. It had never occurred to the witch that water would need to be rationed in space.

Her next disappointment had come once she had managed to de-foam her hair. Elena had pulled out her cell phone hoping wildly that somehow, she would still be able to contact her friends back on Earth. No such luck. After half an hour’s futile effort to raise a signal, it became abundantly clear that not even a magically altered phone was able to connect from a foreign galaxy it appeared.

And to top off the steaming shit pile she called her life, she had just made the biggest fool out of herself in front of the two people who decided her immediate future, one of which was well on his way to hating her.

Elena was left with only one option. Without lifting her head from the hard mattress, she snaked a hand into the pouch on her hip. Immediately, objects of all shapes and sizes presented themselves to her probing fingers. Having lived a semi-nomadic life for the past two years, Elena had taken to thinking of her enchanted bag as a sort of home away from home, storing everything from her cauldron and potion ingredients to several changes of clothes inside it. Her mother’s favorite idiom, “better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it,” had been instilled in her from a young age, and Elena couldn’t count the number of times she had been grateful for the paranoia.

Elena sorted through the medley of textures, gently nudging aside her now useless phone, books, and shoes as they moved into her path. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually, her fingers made contact with the familiar cool glass and metal that made up the delicately crafted item. Elena carefully extracted the object from the bag and held it gingerly in her cupped hands.

It was a small two-way mirror. Its beautifully crafted frame was made of intricately braided strands of silver, which gleamed merrily under the harsh cabin lighting. The glass itself was ordinary, but Elena knew if she turned it over she would find a string of paired initials dating back nearly 150 years. The most recent ones read A. W. & M. P. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Lifting her face from the confines of the bedclothes, Elena propped herself up on her forearms, taking care not to drop the mirror in the process. She hated to involve her family in her problems. They had had enough trouble brought their way thanks to her, and Elena didn’t want to add to it. However, desperate times, desperate measures and all that.

Once situated, Elena took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and called out clearly, “Jean Hillard.”

She waited a few beats but heard no answer. The mirror’s magic worked instantly, and her mother never kept her waiting if she could help it. When a whole minute had passed without a peep of response to her call, Elena became disheartened. Not wanting to admit total defeat just yet, she popped one eye open to observe the glass.

It showed nothing but her own half-scrunched expression. Elena blew out the rest of her breath in one fast whoosh and dropped fully back onto her stomach. Another dead end. For once, she thought, it would be nice if whatever greater power that seemed to enjoy screwing with her life would take a day off.

Not only was she stranded in an unknown galaxy, completely cut off from the Nine Realms, but she had no idea how to get back nor any means of contacting her home. And to add insult to injury, her earlier embarrassment over the Memory Malfunction, as she had taken to calling the incident, still burned hot in her veins.

This was by far the worst situation the young guardian had ever found herself in. Everything around her seemed to be going from bad to worse faster than a Firebolt, with no end in sight.

It was hard to believe it had only been 24 hours since she arrived on this ship. Between dealing with suspicious space wizards—Jedi they called themselves—magical malfunctions, and a back resembling a Van Gogh masterpiece, Elena was ready to brew herself a Draught of Living Death just to avoid dealing with the lot of it.

Groaning again, Elena rolled onto her back and flung an arm across her eyes to block out the room’s glaring overhead lights.

Just as her lingering humiliation threatened to consume her once more, a knock sounded on her door. Not bothering to right her position, Elena called out a toneless, “Come in,” and a second later the door opened to reveal an amused Ahsoka.

“What’s up with you?” the vibrant girl asked, eyes flicking over Elena’s sprawled form hanging half-off the bed.

“I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole,” Elena grumbled in response, not bothering to put her professional mask back in place. Ahsoka could think what she wanted for all the witch cared.

“What?” the padawan replied nonplussed.

“Nothing.” Elena removed her arm and lolled her head to the side to look at the alien girl. “What are you doing here?”

“Right. That.” Ahsoka shook her head slightly as she refocused her attention. “I was told to inform you that you’re free to leave your quarters and move about the ship if you wish.”

“Really?” asked Elena skeptically. After what happened in the meditation chamber, she expected to be moved to a holding cell at the very least.

“Within reason,” Ahsoka clarified vaguely.

“Oh, well thanks for letting me know.” She tried to keep the surprise out of her voice as she turned her head to face the ceiling once more. Elena definitely did not feel up to dealing with the inevitable awkward conversation that would certainly follow if she accidentally ran across a certain Jedi master while exploring the cruiser, but she appreciated the offer nonetheless.

Elena expected the girl to leave once her message had been delivered but faced her again when she didn’t move.

“Is there something else you needed?” Elena asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Ahsoka scratched behind her head as she leaned against the doorframe. “To be honest, my master wants me to keep an eye on you.”

Elena snorted humorlessly and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. There it was. She knew Skywalker wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy. She considered herself lucky he hadn’t fitted her with a tracker.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Elena groused, “though shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be a bit more discreet about it or something?”

“He only said to watch you. He said nothing about talking to you,” Ahsoka stated, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

It was an effort for Elena to contain her snort of amusement

“You certainly seem to take a creative perspective when it comes to orders then.”

“I learned from the best,” Ahsoka replied with a casual shrug. “From what little Master Skywalker told me, I got the impression that your and Master Kenobi’s session was a bit more intense than originally bargained for.”

Elena let out a hollow laugh. That was an understatement. “Did he tell you the whole story?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “He was on his way to report the Council, so I only got a brief rundown. Nothing specific.”

The girl’s blue eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Elena could tell she was fishing for information. Seeing as Ahsoka would most likely find out anyway, Elena gestured for her to sit down before giving her the condensed version of the events in the meditation chamber.

“Kriff,” Ahsoka swore once Elena had finished recounting the story of Kenobi’s appraisal of her mind and its immediate aftermath. “I’m surprised you’re still breathing after that. My master’s known for being a bit defensive when it comes to his friends.”

Elena gave her a disbelieving look.

“Alright, perhaps ‘overprotective’ is a better word,” Ahsoka amended sheepishly, tugging lightly on a strand of beads that dangled behind her head.

Elena laughed—a full-on guffaw that started deep in her belly but soon transformed into a fit of unrestrained laughter. She found Ahsoka’s honest and blunt view of the world refreshing after her time navigating the sea of politics she had been unceremoniously thrust into. Not only that, but it felt good to laugh, to feel something other than her constant anxiety, even for a short while.

As she quieted down, Elena managed to choke out, “I can think of several more words to describe him as well, and trust me, not all of them are flattering.”

Both of the young women had moved to sit cross-legged on the bed, completely at ease as they conversed with one another. It was the first time Elena had felt truly relaxed since stepping foot in this foreign galaxy, and even though she longed to return to her homeworld, Elena was glad to have at least one person to talk to.

“I gotta ask, Ahsoka. Why are you here?”

“I told you, my master wanted me to watch you.”

“But why are you talking to me? Like you said, you don’t have to, and I kinda got the impression you didn’t like and or trust me yesterday.”

Ahsoka was silent for a long minute and Elena didn’t press her. The alien girl stared absentmindedly at the door mulling over her answer.

“I’ve seen a lot during the past two years, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts,” she began tentatively. “You’re right. I don’t trust you—not yet at least—but that doesn’t mean I believe you’re here to harm us.”

“According to your master, I could be a very good liar,” Elena pointed out. “For all you know, I could be plotting a million and one ways to kill everyone on this ship.”

“Well, then I guess it comes down to ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

“Touché.” Elena's lips quirked up into an amused smirk. The girl had spunk.

Elena stretched, relishing the sound of popping joints as the muscles in her aching back loosened. “In that case,” Elena began, as she kneaded one of her traps in her left shoulder that refused to uncramp, “can I assume your master is going to want to know every detail of our conversation later?”

Ahsoka smiled knowingly. “Most definitely. I’m pretty sure he still thinks you’re a Sith.”

The term was still new to the guardian, but not unfamiliar. Her time examining Kenobi’s mind had yielded several mentions of the ominous Sith. She was still unclear on the specifics of what exactly a Sith was, but she knew it was nothing good.

One, in particular, featured prominently in Kenobi’s thoughts: a red-skinned, demon-like creature, complete with horns and ebony streaks across its face, prowled menacingly across the general’s memory. The striking figure exuded power as dark as the robes shrouding its body and seemed to be connected to several of Kenobi’s most painful memories. If she wanted to be dramatic, Elena might refer to the male Sith as Kenobi’s nemesis.

“Give him time. Master Kenobi trained him. They’re practically brothers,” Ahsoka continued, oblivious to Elena’s preoccupation. “Like I said, I don’t think you’re here to hurt us. From what little I’ve seen of your powers, you could have easily done so already. No need to waste time with the political theatre if you don’t have to.”

Elena sighed at that, releasing the last of the tension from her body. As much as she wanted to think the worst of the man, Elena understood what it was like to fear for the safety of loved ones.

“Well for better or worse, I don’t think I have much time to give him. According to Master Kenobi, they’ll be turning me over to this mysterious council as soon as we land in order to figure out a way for me to get home. I doubt I’ll be seeing much of any of you after that.”

While Kenobi and Co. had made the temporary decision not to immediately throw her in space prison, Elena was still considered and unknown in a galaxy at war. It was up to the Jedi Council to make a final assessment. What happened from there was anyone’s guess.

“Don’t worry too much about the Council,” Ahsoka advised, her mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk. “They can be stuffy and are sticklers for the Code, but they do actually mean well. They’ll hear you out.”

Elena was slightly mollified by this pronouncement. At least she could count on a fair trial, maybe even a few open minds. She understood their desire not to take any risks, but her impatience to get home had her greatly resenting any delays.

Attempting to perk up her suddenly somber mood, Elena cast around for a new topic of discussion. Her eyes landed on Ahsoka’s blue and white striped head. Perfect. If they were going to be semi-friends, now seemed like a good time for some answers.

Elena picked idly at a knotted thread in the military-gray comforter. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she started as casually as she could, “but what _are_ you?”

The padawan laughed at her affected nonchalance before launching into a detailed explanation of togruta and the other various species Elena could expect to encounter on Coruscant.

* * *

It was late into the evening when Elena finally had a minute to herself just to think.

The pair had spent the past few hours swapping details about their lives in their respective galaxies. Questions on both sides were endless, and conversation flowed freely. By some unspoken agreement, neither broached topics that might be considered sensitive and kept firmly to light-hearted tales.

Elena scrubbed her hands over her tired face and through her hair. So much had happened in the past 48 hours, and she hadn’t really had a chance to process it all yet.

Ahsoka had left minutes before to report to her master, and the silence accompanying her departure seemed almost deafening.

A guilty weight seemed to descend on her chest as she wondered how the rest of her team had fared back on Earth during the Convergence. She was ashamed to admit—even to herself—that she had hardly thought about what the people she had left behind might be facing while she was stuck here playing politician.

Had Thor been able to defeat Malekith? Were the Night Elves still terrorizing Greenwich? Were all the portals closed? Had anyone else been sucked into this unnamed galaxy? An endless loop of suppositions and what-ifs circled in her brain like a cancer taking root. The uncertainty gnawed at her, festering in the pit of her stomach as she lied there contemplating the possibilities.

The worst part was the uncertainty of it all. Elena had no idea what was happening back on her own world. In her own galaxy. Ragnarok could have come and gone and she would have been none the wiser. She felt adrift. There were no contingencies for situations like this and certainly no training. She was well and truly on her own.

Elena pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and sucked in a deep breath through her nose, filling her lungs with the semi-stale air of the ship. This wasn’t helping. There was nothing she could do at the moment to get home, and continuing to worry about it would only make her more anxious.

With an effort, she shoved down her turbulent emotions, releasing her breath slowly as she did. She needed to focus on the here and now. One step at a time.

She spent the next several minutes mentally cataloging everything she had learned about the galaxy she found herself in. While Ahsoka had been very informative, Elena relied heavily on the information she had gained from Master Kenobi’s mind.

It was an incredible jumble of data that required a lengthy inspection to fully understand, and Elena couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of minutiae she had accrued.

Thankfully, there had been no distressing memories to relive during her search of his mind, but attempting to sort through the muddle that made up the essence of Obi-wan Kenobi was proving a challenge to the young guardian. The details just kept coming. The general’s mind had been a well of facts, emotions, images, and impressions. Specifics big and small swirled through her mind, ranging from the structure of the galactic government to Kenobi’s favorite places for fast food, to life growing up in the Jedi Temple, to planets of all climates and environments.

Elena was captivated. There was so much to see and absorb, and Elena wanted to retain all she could.

Skywalker had cropped up in his memories and thoughts numerous times, but that was to be expected, since, according to Ahsoka, Skywalker was his one-time apprentice. There was another face as well that had appeared in his more formative years that many of his memories and current emotions were still tied to. It was that of an older man, tall, with long dusty brown hair and a kindly smile that Kenobi always seemed to associate with a particularly happy memory. His father perhaps? His own mentor? Both were equally likely.

Answers, though, would have to wait until a later date, if ever. She knew upon reaching Coruscant she would be removed from the custody of her escorts: her bound for the Council, and they to resupply before shipping back off to worlds unknown. Well, unknown to her at least.

Her stomach roiled with anticipation. Regardless of the highs and lows of the past two days, Elena knew she couldn’t afford to get comfortable. She was fascinated, and that was dangerous. Staying wasn’t an option. Her plan was simple: avoid space prison, find a way home. Help was welcome, but not necessary.

Elena picked through the foreign memories until she couldn’t think straight, eventually settling on an image of a breathtaking alien landscape. It inspired her to know that places of such incredible beauty existed in this galaxy, and her hands itched to grab her acrylic paints and begin putting brush to canvas. She knew a complete realistic rendering was beyond her and, frankly, not her style, but the colors. That is what she longed to capture. The vibrancy, the emotion. Elena’s wrist twitched in reaction to the imaginary brush strokes she longed to make, but she stilled her fingers, and, pushing passed the slight heaviness in her chest, contented herself with holding the image in her head.

In her mind’s eye, she could picture the gently rolling hills and abundant waterfalls of the unknown planet perfectly. A towering cliff crowned with a palace more magnificent than anything Elena had ever imagined dominated the scene, with matching crystalline waterfalls cascading into the tranquil ocean below. At the base of the crag, a diaphanous, shimmering mist hung in the air, reflecting rainbows at random and partially obscuring the base of the bluff.

For a while, Elena entertained her tired brain with counting the waterfalls in the distance and the dulled green domes of the palace and surrounding buildings before the picture muddled in her mind and sleep claimed her.

Two levels up and three hallways over, Obi-wan sat silently before his desk pouring over the vast amount of paperwork that needed to be filed at the end of each mission. Holopads containing expense and supply reports took up one corner of the desk, Commander Cody and Captain Rex’s own reports on the troops took up another. Damage reports, medical reports, food, fuel consumption, munitions. You name it, there was probably a report on it. As the mission’s commanding officer, Obi-wan needed to review the information before forwarding it on to the central command center of the GAR, where he was sure another poor sop would be charged with reviewing it again.

The general rubbed at his tired eyes attempting to see through the bleariness that came from staring at a screen too long. He looked down at the dim holopad before him and read the string of numbers detailing the amount of food rations consumed by the troops.

4 million pounds?! That couldn’t be right. He squinted, blinked his eyes, and, eventually, the numbers reformed themselves into a more reasonable amount.

It was time to call it quits.

Anakin had yet to submit his report, and Obi-wan couldn’t forward the information until he did, so he resolved himself to put off the work for another night.

He stood up, languidly stretching the kinks out of his back and neck. They had another day and a half of hyperspace travel before arriving at Coruscant, and while they were still technically on duty, Obi-wan didn’t plan on wasting the pseudo-free time.

He exited his chambers, noting the quietness that had settled over the ship late at night. His quarters, located in the officers’ wing of the ship, were never a hive of activity, but there was always a clone or two passing by or the sounds of the mess hall two corridors over to break the silence.

He wandered the many halls with no specific destination in mind. It felt good to be moving after having sat at his desk for most of the evening. He debated finding Anakin, but with his shoulder still injured, he was most likely asleep.

His former padawan had visited him a few hours earlier under the pretense of delivering a status update from the bridge. They had made pleasant conversation for a few minutes before the subject of their guest was brought up and Anakin began worrying over any lasting effects Miss Hillard’s magic might have had.

Obi-wan had had to shoo him out of the room after that stating, “If I die in my sleep tonight, please feel free to say, ‘I told you so.’ Until then, I am _fine_ Anakin.”

If he was being honest with himself, he knew he had been using the work as an excuse to keep from thinking about Guardian Hilliard and their disastrous meditation session earlier that day. And though he didn’t want to admit it, Anakin was right to be upset. This whole situation was too bizarre and coincidental for his liking, and if their track record was anything to go by, coincidences were never a good thing.

Their earlier talk with the Council had confirmed what Obi-wan had suspected: Master Yoda had felt the surge in the Force that accompanied the guardian’s arrival. It was troubling news. If Master Yoda had felt it halfway across the galaxy, who else had as well? Much had become clouded in the Force during the war, and Obi-wan didn’t want to think of any new enemies that might be drawn out of their holes by the taste of such power.

Obi-wan silently berated himself. He could almost hear Qui-gon’s gentle reprimand to keep his mind on the present. There was no need to drum up trouble where none existed—yet, Obi-wan thought wryly.

His feet paused outside the door to the officers’ lounge. It was a place Obi-wan rarely spent any time due to his always-busy schedule, but tonight he found himself drawn to the window that took up most of the opposite wall. He moved across the space to stand before the transparasteel and the endless lines of hyperspace whooshing past in a colorful dance.

New dangers would be awaiting them once they reached Coruscant. He still hadn’t figured out what should be done about Guardian Hillard. The Council had agreed to see her, and, for the moment, Obi-wan had left her out of the official mission report he intended to file, not wanting the sensitive information of her origins to get out. It was too late to keep most of it from the clones who had been on the scene, but Anakin had spoken to them, and he had the younger general’s word that they wouldn’t say a thing.

Obi-wan had always admired Anakin’s ability to inspire loyalty in his troops. They both looked up to him, and, in some ways, saw him as one of their own. While he was far from distant with his troops, Obi-wan had never mastered the commanding casualness in which Anakin seemed to exist.

He had let his curiosity consume him earlier. He had failed to notice his host’s rising discomfort and probed too deeply into her consciousness. Elena Hillard’s memories had been fascinating. Never in all his travels had he encountered a world so rich in the Force that it granted its inhabitants powers entirely unknown to him. He doubted even the archives back at the temple would hold a reference to such extraordinary abilities.

Obi-wan frowned. The galaxy was changing too much too quick, with Elena Hillard being the most recent upset in a long chain of events. If history was anything to go by, the situation would only get worse before it got better.

In a galaxy with so many different beings and cultures, one would think that change was fairly omnipresent. However, as he had matured, Obi-wan began to see that very little real change ever seemed to occur. The creation of the Confederacy of Independent Systems was the first big step that had been taken in over a millennium, and look how well that was working out. Throw a completely foreign galaxy into the mix, and Obi-wan shuddered to contemplate the mess that was bound to ensue.

Bending his head forward, Obi-wan stretched the stiff muscles of his neck, releasing a small groan of relief. Perhaps sleep was in order if he was going to be of any use tomorrow. There was much that still needed to be done, but standing here, with nothing but starlines, his thoughts, and the Force to keep him company, Obi-wan felt at peace.

* * *

Tony Stark lived for Sundays. In his not-so-humble opinion, Sunday was the best day of the week. Sundays meant no work meetings, no stuffy galas to attend, and no nagging from Fury (Tony had written a special program into JARVIS to ensure this). It was just him, his tech, and the tranquil sound of heavy metal blaring through his speakers.

The thick smell of engine grease hung heavy in the air as small wisps of smoke curled up from beneath the car that was Tony’s latest project. Various tools of all shapes and sizes littered the area surrounding Tony as if he were the center of some sort of mechanical explosion.

The clatter of metal on concrete sounded through the garage as Tony threw aside another tool, adding to the circle of debris.

“DUM-E, hand me the five-eighths ratchet wrench,” Tony’s voice called out from beneath his Audi R8, his legs the only visible part of him.

The slender robot chirped enthusiastically and twisted its three-pronged face to dig through the sleek aluminum toolbox lying open on the floor beside the sports car.

“Sir, might I recommend not tampering with the vehicle’s speed capabilities yet again? You have already modified it past the legal limit,” JARVIS’s electronic voice cautioned over the sound of the Black Sabbath song currently blasting through the garage’s speakers.

“Rules are made to be broken JARV,” Tony replied carelessly, snatching the requested wrench from DUM-E’s pincers. “Besides,” Tony grunted as he tightened an awkwardly placed screw, “they all seem so slow compared to my day job.”

“I am overwhelmed by your ability to reason, Sir.”

“The praise is accepted, and the sarcasm is ignored.”

“As always, Sir,” was JARVIS’s clipped response. “Oh, and Director Fury is on his way up the elevator.”

That got Tony’s attention.

“What?” he shouted in a horrified voice. Tony rolled himself out from beneath the car in one swift motion and glared angrily at the ceiling. “We discussed this JARVIS. Sundays equal no Fury.”

“He was quite insistent, Sir. Apparently, there’s been an incident.”

Tony gave an exaggerated groan and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

JARVIS wasted no time responding, his mechanical voice almost cheerful. “Thor has recently returned to Asgard, after the ordeal in Greenwich. Mr. Banner is out for the weekend, giving a lecture at NYU. Agents Romanov and Barton are away on missions, and Captain Rogers is currently getting his hair cut at the barbershop down the street.”

Tony grumbled unintelligibly under his breath.

“Shall I stop the elevator, Sir?” JARVIS inquired just at the elevator dinged to announce its arrival.

Tony shot the AI another dark look before pulling himself to his feet. “I swear, one of these days, I’m going to donate you to a community college.”

“Very good, Sir.”

Tony gave the AI a vulgar gesture before picking his way through his self-created debris maze over to the glass doors that divided the elevator from the rest of the garage. Behind the glass he could see Fury waiting impatiently with an unfamiliar young woman.

“I’m sorry, I don’t babysit.”

Fury’s face was unimpressed as he scowled through the translucent partition.

“Stark, open the damn door.”

“You do know I’ll be billing you for this,” Tony remarked dryly, as he keyed in the code to open the glass doors currently blocking him from the director of SHIELD.

Tony stepped aside as the doors slid open and nodded towards to woman. “New sidekick? Did Hill finally get a life and quit?”

Fury ignored him as he strode into the once-pristine space now speckled with a haphazard array of discarded tools and parts and surveyed the half-dismantled sports car.

“New project?” he asked dismissively.

Tony leaned against the nearest worktable and crossed his arms over his chest. He tried not to let his annoyance show too much. The director was never the most forthcoming when it came to information, and today he seemed to be intentionally testing Tony’s already infamously short patience.

“You know me, Fury. Always working.”

Fury didn’t reply immediately, and the opening chords of Aerosmith’s latest track filled the garage as the director took his time observing the room with his single eye. Tony had been on the receiving end of that stare far too often for his liking and was keenly aware of its ability to catch every detail in its hawk-like perusal. It was almost worse than being caught in one of Pepper’s trademark glares. Almost.

Finding nothing further to remark on, Fury’s singular gaze once again met Tony’s.

“Stark, this is Miss Hermione Granger,” Fury stated in a matter-of-fact voice, gesturing to the brown-haired woman, who held out her hand for Tony to shake. “She’s a specialist in experimental magic sent over from the English ministry.”

Fury had brought a witch to the tower. Interesting. A blink was all the surprise Tony allowed himself to show as his mind immediately began calculating all possible scenarios, trying to come up with a reason for this unannounced visit.  
  
Maintaining his disinterested mask, Tony looked the woman over. She was of average height with a slender frame enhanced by the professional high-waisted skirt and fitted, flowing jacket she wore. Tony wasn’t overly familiar with women’s clothing, but even he could detect the subtle style that hinted at “wizard.”

Her features were petite, attractively so, but Tony found himself wary of her honey-brown eyes that didn’t bother to disguise the keen intelligence behind them.

Tony grasped her hand briefly, his usual smirk settling onto his face before asking, “You’re like what? Sixteen? Shouldn’t you still be learning to fly a broom or something?”

If Tony had been hoping for a rise out of her, he was disappointed. Miss Granger’s face revealed nothing, and her tone was one of detached politeness as she retorted, “Twenty-two actually. Though I do believe you were even younger when you became CEO of Stark Industries.”

Tony grinned, thrilled with her spunk. “Finally, somebody who did the homework.”

“I think, Stark, you’ll find you’re no longer the only genius in the class,” Fury noted, mockingly.

“Which brings me back to my original question: why are you here?”

Fury eyed him steadily as he pulled a thin, black folder from within the dark leather of his trench coat. “There’s been an incident,” he said calmly as he dropped the folder to the floor. It landed with a satisfying smack.

“You remembered,” Tony quipped, amusement flickering in his eyes. While Fury had the propensity to be a huge pain in his rear, the director was always good for a bout of witty repartee.

Tony gestured casually to DUM-E to retrieve the file for him while the Granger woman watched the exchange behind an expressionless mask.

“What now?” Tony questioned, flipping file open in a careless motion. “Clint got himself stuck in a tree somewhere?”

“I think you’ll find it’s a bit more pressing than that,” Fury rumbled. “What do you know about the situation in Greenwich?”

“The Convergence? I was under the impression our resident Norse God took care of it along with his smarty-pants girlfriend.”

Fury sighed grimly through his nose and moved to perch halfway on the work table opposite Tony’s. “The Malakith side of things, yes. However, Ms. Granger here led the ground team in closing and monitoring the portals that opened during the event.”

“Isn’t Foster supposed to be the expert in inter-dimensional portals and whatnot? Where was she in all this, or is she still out of the magical loop?”

“Dr. Foster was busy creating more problems for us.” Granger picked that moment to speak up, and Tony didn’t miss the disgruntled tone in the young woman’s voice. “She weaponized Dr. Selvig’s focusing rods and used them to create portals at-will throughout the confrontation.”

Seemingly unable to contain her agitation any longer, the witch began pacing the garage, arms locked across her chest as she continued to speak in a tight voice.

“Since these weren’t naturally occurring portals, they were even more unstable than the originals. Our containment spell—“

“—was next to useless on them. I get it,” Tony interrupted, not looking up from the file in his hands as he thumbed through various pages of notes and grainy images. “Let’s skip to the part that explains what went wrong and why you came running to me—on a _Sunday_—to fix it. Shouldn’t you be calling Hillard? She’s the one in charge of inter-realm cooperation.”

Granger stopped pacing and stared at him for a long moment before replying in a deadly calm voice. “Guardian Hillard is missing.”

Tony snapped his gaze to the director, whose sole eye was fixed steadily on him.

“Are you ready to listen now, Stark?” Fury asked quietly.

It was Tony’s turn to ignore the director as he focused his attention back on the witch before him. “What happened?”

Granger resumed her pacing, heels clicking softly on the polished concrete with each step.

“As Earth’s guardian, Elena headed up the assault team in charge of rounding up any Night Elves that had infiltrated the city. She and a team of aurors were closing portals as they came across them, but their main priority was securing the city.”

Granger paused here, and her expression flickered into a slight scowl before clearing once again. “Dr. Foster’s focusing rods created portals arbitrarily. Most of them were centralized around Thor and Malakith, however, several popped up outside that sphere. It was…”  
  
“Chaos?” Tony supplied when Granger seemed unable to find an adequate word. She grimaced but didn’t contradict him.

Tony whistled quietly to himself, snapping closed the file still grasped in his hands. Something wasn’t adding up. This whole situation didn’t sit well with him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He scratched the back of his head in an attempt to dislodge the nagging feeling.

“Portals popping up every few feet, Thor having a grudge match, and a horde of DnD characters running rampant. Sounds like a recipe for chaos if there ever was one.”

“This isn’t a joke, Stark.” Granger fired back.

“Do you see me laughing?” Tony countered. “You still haven’t told me how exactly Earth’s guardian ended up on the MIA list.”

Tony could practically see the gargantuan effort Granger put into not rolling her eyes at him. Oh yeah. This Sunday was shaping up just fine after all. If only Pepper was here and not in Malibu. Tony knew she always got a kick out of seeing him annoy anyone who wasn’t her—not that she’d ever admit to it.

“Based on what we’ve been able to piece together, Elena and a couple members of her team were finishing up with a small band of Night Elves when one of Foster’s rogue portals materialized.”

“Hang on a sec,” Tony interrupted, holding up a hand. “How do you know it was one of Foster’s portals and not a natural one?”

To his surprise, it was Fury who responded, “The coloring. Dr. Foster’s portals had a blue tinge around the edges. Natural portals are virtually seamless, making them a pain in the ass to locate.”

Tony mentally agreed. “So, the portal appeared, sucked Hillard inside, and you guys have no idea where in the Nine Realms she is now. Does that about sum it up?”

Granger, who looked about as tightly wound as a spring, released a sharp breath through her nose adding, “Mostly, but not quite. We’ve already contacted Heimdall through Thor. The Gatekeeper can’t see her.”

Tony bit back a groan. Just what _did_ that guy see? For an all-seeing Gatekeeper, he seemed to miss a lot. On the other hand…

“That could mean nothing,” Tony ventured. “Heimdall couldn’t see Loki for a while either, because he was being shielded by magic. Last time I checked, Hillard _is_ a witch. How do you know the same thing isn’t happening here? Maybe she’s shielding herself, or maybe purple guy found her. Guardian-napping sounds right up his alley.”

“Perhaps, but I prefer to know rather than speculate,” Fury ground out, his single-eyed gaze intensifying even further. “Ancient and powerful forces have begun to stir. That makes me nervous. The Nine Realms are still a relatively new concept here on Earth, and I refuse to be caught woefully underprepared for the next Manhattan.”

Throughout his speech, the director's voice had quieted dangerously. Fury could shout and holler with the best of them when he wanted, but it was his quiet, severe voice that promised violence.

If Granger was perturbed by the clear menace in elder man’s pronouncement, it didn’t show. She had stopped her agitated pacing once again to stand directly before Tony, her sharp eyes boring into his own, as she stated evenly, “We need to consider the possibility that Elena Hillard is no longer in the Nine Realms.”

They were quiet for a moment after that, and Tony belated realized they were trying to give him a moment to absorb everything they were telling him. They needn’t have bothered. His mind was already ten steps ahead planning and making calculations.

Nothing like this had ever been attempted, there were too many variables, too many unanswered questions. While the challenge excited his bones, the voice in the back of Tony’s mind—the one that sounded oddly like Pepper and was usually ignored—was wary of what they might find if they started down this path.

It was Fury’s harsh baritone that brought Tony back to the present.

“Stark you’ll be working with Ms. Granger to locate and retrieve Guardian Hillard—”

“I still haven’t said ‘yes,’” Tony interjected, cutting off the rest of the director’s would-be declaration. Righting his posture, Tony dropped the black folder containing Hillard’s case file onto the table behind him and picked up a screwdriver. “This is extremely experimental and theoretical science you’re talking about here,” Tony began as he fiddled with the Philips head of the tool. “No one has been able to communicate realm to realm directly, let alone with another galaxy. What you’re asking is currently deemed impossible.”

The look Granger sent him could’ve frozen steel, but it was Fury’s short chuckle that nearly gave Tony a heart attack.

“Now I don’t think that’s a word I’ve ever heard you use before, Stark.” The director quipped, stepping off his perch on the work table and rising to his full height. “Well, then I guess it comes down to whether or not you’re willing to risk one of the nine most powerful beings in the galaxy falling under the influence of a mad Titan.”

Tony didn’t respond, but his dark eyes held enough of his answer.

“Then I think I’ve made my point.”

Fury began picking his way back out of the cluttered garage, calling over his shoulder as he went, “Dr. Foster will arrive in a couple of days to assist the two of you, and I’m sure Dr. Banner will want to join in the fun as well once he returns. Until then,” he had reached the glass doors that separated the space from the elevator bank—they were open thanks to JARVIS no doubt, “play nice.”

With that, he strode through the double doors and into the waiting elevator car, leaving the billionaire and the witch standing amongst the detritus.

* * *

Coruscant was unlike anything Elena had ever seen before. Layers upon layers of shops, apartments, businesses, pleasure halls, civic centers, restaurants, slums, museums, galleries, and theatres built one upon the other until not an inch of natural land was left.

And the _lights_!

Everywhere she looked lights of all colors streamed into the atmosphere. Why the sun even bothered to rise was a mystery to Elena. Surely darkness was a foreign concept to the residents of this planet.

Even now, standing in the foyer of the Jedi Council Chamber, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the vast cityscape visible through the many arched windows.

In the lingering semi-darkness present between sunset and true night, the city morphed into a vibrant display of luminescent jewels set against the velvet backdrop of the dimming sky, illuminating their surroundings in a multitude of burnished hues.

The _Liberty_ had docked in the capital planet’s obit late into the afternoon of Elena’s third day aboard. After being assured by Ahsoka that they weren’t needed to assist with the departure procedures, the two had made their way to one of the many hanger bays to board the transport that would take them “planet-side” as the padawan had called it. They had been joined directly by the two generals, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, and a plethora of additional officers Elena wasn’t acquainted with. She wasn’t sure what the Jedi had told them to explain her presence, but they didn’t give her a second glance.

The ride to the surface had been bumpy and cramped, but once the shuttle entered the planet’s atmosphere and the slats in the doors slid back, Elena had been transfixed.

“Magical” was a term that no longer held any mystical connotations to Elena. When you could summon just about anything at will, and your professor regularly turned into a cat, the word just didn’t hold the same weight.

However, staring at the never-ending city gilded in the rays of the fading sun, Elena could think of no other descriptor for the scene before her as they descended toward the surface.

Elena’s skin tingled and her heart clenched inside her chest as she beheld the foreign world. Magic, indeed.

The had euphoria simmered and coiled into the pit of her stomach as the transport neared the imposing obelisks of the Jedi Temple, warming her even now as her gaze continued to flit up and down the endless miles of soaring structures visible from her current vantage point.

The trio of Jedi had escorted her to the apex of the central tower of the Jedi compound via an awkwardly silent lift ride, instructed her to remain in the antechamber, and then proceeded into the room themselves.

That was nearly two hours ago.

Elena’s left foot twinged painfully, and she readjusted her posture to center her weight evenly. She silently cursed her idiotic decision to wear heels.

She had dug through her bag and found a mostly-pressed, gray, business-professional dress and a black cropped blazer in preparation for her introduction to the Jedi Council. She intended to make a solid first impression, but eight hours later she was regretting her choice to wear the stylish, ankle-strap heels.

Piss-poor planning on her part as her mother would say.

She had debated donning her official armor for the occasion but had decided against it in case it set the wrong tone. Elena had only worn the goblin-wrought armor gifted—_loaned_, as the goblins would say—to her on the day of her Swearing a handful of times in her eight official years as Earth’s guardian—a few public appearances and then the ordeal with Chitauri. The supple white leather and reinforced cloth were just as functional as it was beautiful, but most importantly, to Elena at least, it was _comfortable_.

Elena picked at her cuticles as time ticked on in the steadily darkening antechamber. Ever since she had been informed of her upcoming audience with the Council, her overactive mind had run through various scenarios and outcomes of the meeting.

The least favorable ones ended with her leaping out a window in a daring escape, or unintentionally starting Earth’s first intergalactic war.

Elena breathed deeply, filling any cracks in her mask with a razor-sharp focus on the task ahead. She would be stone. Unbreakable. Unyielding.

She had distracted herself for the past few minutes by tracing the never-ending lines of vehicles of all makes and models that coursed through the city-planet. Busy trailing the flight path of a curiously shaped vessel toward what appeared to be an industrial zone of the planet, Elena started when the distinct sound of a pneumatic door opening echoed through the space.

She turned in time to see the door slide shut once again behind Skywalker and Ahsoka as they exited the Council Chamber.

The knight was gripping the back of his neck as he twisted it to relieve what appeared to be some serious cramping.

“I thought that meeting was never going to end.” Skywalker groaned as he tilted his neck forward to alleviate some of the built-up tension, while his padawan looked on in amusement.

“Getting old Skyguy?” the young woman—_togruta_—chirped.

Her master just snorted, now fully bent over stretching out his back. “Keep dreaming Snips. We’re still running ‘sabre drills in the morning.”

Ahsoka eyed his still-injured shoulder dubiously but didn’t remark further.

Heels clicking on the polished, patterned marble Elena left her window and joined the pair in front of the doors just as Skywalker righted himself.

“How did it go?”

Skywalker stiffened at her approach, and eyes the color of a storm-tossed sea flicked to hers, instantly on alert. He raked his gaze over her—a slow deliberate examination—searching for what Elena didn’t know, before zeroing in on a pinprick of blood oozing from the torn cuticle of her thumb.

As casually as possible, Elena clasped her hands loosely behind her back.

The young man continued to stare at Elena, eyes boring into her own. Eventually, he seemed to decide that her question was harmless enough to deign to answer. “About as well as could be expected, I guess. Your part in matters didn’t help.”

In case his tone didn’t come off hostile enough, Skywalker made sure to shoot her a withering glare. A clear message that he blamed her for his having to stand still for the past two hours. Among other things.

Elena took in the antagonistic display, not backing down an inch.

Ahsoka, sensing the rising tension, chose that moment to break into the conversation. Stepping slightly in front of her mentor she informed the guardian that the Council would be calling her in shortly.

“Why did the two of you get to leave?”

A casual shrug set her russet skin glowing the in artificial lights of the city. “Our part is finished. Master Kenobi is the one who entered your mind, and therefore has the most information to offer at the moment.”

Elena turned a saccharine smile on Skywalker. “And I’m positive you made sure to point out all of your concerns regarding me before you left.”

The predator’s smirk that crept up the knight’s lips was answer enough.

Elena rolled her eyes.

“Will Master Kenobi be present during my interview or will the Council kick him out as well?”

The knight folded his arms and gave her a hard look. “Obi-wan is on the Council.”

That would have been good to know.

Elena swore under her breath before shooting Ahsoka an exasperated glare.

The padawan had the audacity to chuckle.

Aside from the ride from the cruiser to the surface, Elena hadn’t seen or heard from Kenobi since their ill-fated meditation session. Though she had been given access to the common areas of the ship, Elena had preferred to keep to herself in her borrowed room. She knew Skywalker had been keeping tabs on her location—the man was about as subtle as a bulldozer—and didn’t feel like giving a potential ally more reasons to distrust her by being accused of poking around where she didn’t belong.

With that thought in mind, she had only ventured out of her room for food in the commissary at times she assumed it would be the least crowded.

She wasn’t avoiding the general per se, or anyone for that matter, but the aftermath of the telepathic link had left her feeling off-kilter. A lifetime of memories ransacked her mind, conflicting with her own. They dulled her instincts, muddling the bridge between what was familiar and what was foreign.

The touch of the Jedi’s mind on hers had been—odd. The feel of their Force alien against her consciousness. Magic, pure and undiluted, had poured into her head, pooling in the depths of her thoughts. Rushing wind and an ancient light enveloping her in its embrace.

She had soared in those moments, wrapped in the unending ecstasy that was everything and nothing.

She hated him for it.

His power, vast and undiluted, had scoured her mind, cloaking her in that eternal warmth. Her past had been on display for him to see, to relive with crystal clarity. Until the darkness swallowed them both.

She saw it in his eyes when he returned to the meditation room. The horror. The pity. Not outright, but engraved into the lines of his face. The subtle look she had seen on countless faces before. He thought her blameless. An upright and honorable being who had been horribly wronged.

He saw a being full of hope with a drive to do good, fresh from her days of school and not yet tainted by the growing concerns of the world. Her world. And while the person he saw might have been everything noble and virtuous, one who would balk at hurting innocents, one who wanted to gather all the pain of the world, of the galaxy, and bury it deep into the earth, she was no longer that naïve girl.

The connection had been cut off before he could see past the façade. Past the pristine wrapper to the rotting soul beneath.

So, she smiled. Forced her lips to tilt up and her eyes to brighten. And she pushed any lingering doubts and introspections, down, down, down, into the pit of her heart. Down until nothing remained but the guardian.

“Then this will be an interesting meeting.” The words burned coming out.

Skywalker and Ahsoka left shortly after that. The elder had claimed to be late for another important meeting and rushed off in a swirl of dark robes. His Padawan followed at a more sedate pace, and Elena didn’t miss the conspiratorial look she gave his retreating back.

More minutes slipped by, and Elena resumed her vigil by the window, shifting on her feet. While the bruising in her back had subsided slightly over the past few days, the stiffness remained, along with the incessant throbbing in her feet.

Elena stuck her tongue out at her reflection.

This was taking too long.

She sucked in a long breath, her lungs stretching as they filled to capacity. Slowly—carefully—she allowed the air to release. And with it, her tether to the world loosened as the lines of traffic blurred into the oblivion of meditation.

Drifting. She liked that. It was comforting just to drift mindlessly. To not be tied down by anything.

Mastering meditation had been a priority for Elena over the past few days. And though she hadn’t quite accomplished it yet, the ease with which she slipped into the trance now gratified her.

The echo of her breath was a distant roar in her ears.

Here she was tranquil. Ensconced in her roiling power she was—

Wait—_there_. Something lurked in the shadowed corners at the edge of her consciousness.

She drifted closer, no more than a whisper of thought as she guided herself along the outer edge. Reaching out, she extended a slow, tentative tendril, eliciting a low rumble from the thing. No, not a rumble—a _growl_. One that resonated along Elena’s bones.

An oily darkness took shape, prowling like a ravenous jungle cat primed to pounce. It turned its sightless eyes on Elena, the hollow depths holding nothing but decay and death and pain.

Ice filled her veins as her instincts screamed at her to run. This was wrong. This blackness was _wrong_.

The darkness delighted in her fear. Its maw stretched into a gruesome grin lined with ebony, soul-shredding teeth.

Backpedaling, she withdrew, contracting her mind into itself.

The darkness stretched forward, raking its claws down the adamantine barriers of her mind. Great gouges formed in their wake but did not break through. It was toying with her. Savoring the kill.

She needed out _NOW_.

Her nails broke on the edges of her mind as she scrabbled to find a way back to herself.

This world was wreathed in the shadows of dark magic. She felt it seeping into the stone, the air, into the very energy of the planet.

Death incarnate, the creature sprang claws extended as—

The hand on her shoulder might as well have been a bucket of ice water as she was jarred back to reality.

A slight tremor wracked her body and her eyes—when had she closed them?—opened.

Her eyes immediately connected with Kenobi’s reflected ones in the now fully-dark window. The headlights of a passing vehicle swept over their faces, and Kenobi cleared his throat.

“The Council is ready to see you.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice as her heart beat a frantic rhythm in her chest.

There was something decaying in this galaxy. It was time for the whole story.

* * *

She was stone. She would not break. She was stone. She was _stone_.

The mantra took up a place in her heart, beating in time with the blood pulsing beneath her skin.

The Council chamber, a large, circular room lined with twelve evenly-spaced chairs of varying styles, glowed in the ambient light of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Each seat was filled, some with a physical person, others with flickering blue holograms, and all had their focus trained on Elena as she made her way to the center of the room, her heels clicking lowly on the intricate marble floor.

It took considerable effort not to stare at the foreign species, hologram or no. Other than to two human males, there was only one other species she recognized—a holographic female with the same elegant head tails and markings as Ahsoka, only longer.

Mature, Elena realized. This was what a full-grown togruta looked like. What Ahsoka would one day look like.

A quick scan uncovered no additional exits, but plenty of the windows she had envisioned. A fully-dark sky was barely visible past the overwhelming light pollution.

It took only a second to spot Kenobi, seated in the 11 o’clock position, arms braced on the rests of his chair with one ankle casually propped on the opposite knee. The general was a picture of serenity—his posture relaxed, face clear—as he monitored the room.

However, it was the squat, green _being_ peering at her through ageless eyes that commanded her attention. It was unsettling, and the power radiating from _him? _was unlike anything she had felt before—vast and primal, like an ancient lake of untold fathoms hidden in the roots of a mountain.

The room went still as she came to a stop in the center of the ring—a pause in the game as both parties waited for the other to make their move. The hair on the back of Elena’s neck stood on end, a low buzzing electrifying the air.

A check of her mental defenses revealed no weak points, but she strengthened them all the same.

The ghost of a breeze whispered, a breath of wind gliding past her face as luminous hazel eyes blinked. The gesture was deliberate, measuring, but not weary. No, only a fool would believe this creature to be weak.

“Guardian Hillard,” Kenobi said. Elena turned her head instinctively to him as he spoke. “this is Grandmaster Yoda, Head of the Jedi Order.” He indicated the crouched figure, whose calculating expression set her teeth on edge.

Elongated ears pricked upward, and Elena’s attention was once again on the diminutive grandmaster as it rumbled in an odd throaty voice, “Agreed to speak with us, you did.”

No preamble. No false words of propriety. Just an unwavering stare and the consciousness of eleven other beings as they monitored her every breath.

The buzzing in the air intensified, prickling against her skin as Elena surreptitiously surveyed the room. A move had been made, a cautious one, giving up nothing in its attempt to feel her out.

That was fine. Elena dueled with words as often as magic. More so. Politicians, it seemed, were the same be they muggle or wizard-kind. It always came down to words.

She had always envied her brother—and Stark, she thought ruefully—his quick wit. Words came easy to him, clever quips and retorts flowing freely, enabling him to win nearly every argument he entered into. Elena, on the other hand, had never possessed the trait. Tactical silence, on the other hand, was one of her better tools, her patience enabling her to outlast the most stalwart of verbal opponents. However, she had a sinking suspicion that would not be the case in this interview.

Elena kept her features bland and her voice even as she said, “With all due respect, Master Yoda, it wasn’t presented as optional.”

A curious chuckle emitted from the grandmaster. The sound lilting in a unique pattern as his features scrunched thoughtfully.

“Options, there always are. Though some, easier to distinguish they can be.”

Elena said nothing. Another move, another step around the circle.

“Master Kenobi has informed us of the—unusual—circumstances surrounding your appearance on Sullust.” This time it was the dark-skinned man sat at Master Yoda’s left who spoke. His dark eyes held none of the careful warmth as those of his counterpart, though Elena couldn’t help but feel as if she had met him before. “Care to explain how you arrived in the middle of an active warzone?” he questioned.

“I was under the impression Master Kenobi had already done so,” Elena parried.

The man’s features darkened as he opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as a master with a conical head said, “We’d like to hear your version of the events.”

Fire licked her blood at yet another sidestep. _Patience,_ she reminded herself. The flames—so close to the surface these days—subsided slightly, but did not retreat fully. Fire, unlike the other elements, was influenced by strong emotions, and with all the changes that had been wreaked upon her life in the past few days, Elena felt like she could burn the stars. But not now. The game was still in play—her opponents at the ready. The circles would have to end if they were to move forward. Someone would have to yield.

The headlights of a passing vehicle shone briefly through the room, deepening the lines etched in tired faces. _Tired_. The realization hit Elena like a bludger. These people were exhausted, the collective essence of it permeating the atmosphere, weighing her down like a loadstone around her neck. She knew they were at war, but _this_—this was something more, something _soul_ deep.

Ebony talons flashed briefly through her mind, their oily essence coating the memory.

The presence that had attempted to enter her mind was comprised of a darkness far worse than anything she had encountered before—the malevolent blackness of slaughter fields and freshly dug graves, of souls torn beyond repair. Was that what they were attempting to fight? What had drained them to near husks?

Elena contemplated her options, doing her best to ignore the cramp steadily forming in her lower spine. Think, think, _think_, her mind seemed to scream. The Council didn’t care about her version of the events. Odds were, they were hoping she would reveal something that had been left out of Kenobi’s original report. But what…?

“What is it you’re really after, Masters?” The politely spoken attack hung in the air. For a moment, Elena worried they would continue their circular questioning 

“A threat analysis.” The sudden reply came from the dark-skinned master—she _still_ didn’t know his name—the blunt words striking a chord deep in Elena’s memory. The man leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands folded as he pinned her with a stare too piercing to be unrehearsed.

Elena grinned inwardly. _Finally, someone ready to play. _

The master continued his assault, oblivious to her inner monologue.

_“_The only thing that is obvious Ms. Hillard is that you have immense power and no declared allegiances in this war. We need to know how much of a possible danger you are to the Republic.” He finished speaking, leveling a harsh, measuring look at Elena as grim amusement filled her.

The frankness—bordering on rudeness—was a breath of fresh air, and the petty part of her mind debated side-stepping again just to get another taste. However, progress was being made, and she was loath to lose it.

“None,” she said. “I have no part in your war. I just want to return to my realm and resume my duties as its guardian.”

The dark-skinned master hummed disbelievingly, his concerns by no means assuaged. “And just how do you plan on doing that?”

Check. This guy was going right for the throat. _Careful_ her mind said. These were people not used to being dictated to. Demands would not be met kindly.

Elena’s eyes briefly sought the floor as she carefully selected her next words, seeming to weigh them on her tongue before speaking. “I am certain this Council is by now aware that your galaxy’s technology exceeds that of my own planet’s in many ways.” She cast her eyes on the faces surrounding her, her expressionless mask mirrored a dozen times over throughout the room. “I had hoped, you might be able to direct me to a ship or other form of transport that would take me home.”

The silence that followed was deafening—the tension thick as the focus of the room shifted to the hunched grandmaster. None would meet her eyes. The chamber seemed to darken even further as unease crept into her gut. Doubt swirled in and the flames she was forever keeping at bay rose higher, flushing her skin with heat. 

Master Yoda bowed his head as he spoke, his knotted, three-fingered hands clutching the head of the twisted cane.

Elena stared at the grandmaster, her heart pounding a tattoo against her ribs. Her sweaty hands clutched the hem of her blazer, irrevocably creasing the material.

_Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it_, her mind pleaded silently.

“Exist in this galaxy many wonders do. Surrounded by them, we are,” Master Yoda said, pride and something Elena couldn’t quite identify mixing together in an odd rumbling cadence, “but return you to your galaxy, we cannot.” 

Elena’s world stopped. Stopped, then started again as she processed the information and all its implications.

_Checkmate._

Kenobi said something at this point, but Elena didn’t hear it as she struggled to take in this drastic turn of events. The headlights of passing vehicles flashed brightly across her vision, blinding her as her overwrought mind fought to think its way out of this situation. _There had to be a way. Something. Anything._

Vaguely, through the fog that clouded her brain, Elena heard another master speak up, his voice strangely muffled as though he was speaking to her underwater.

“Inter-galaxy travel is unprecedented.” Elena jolted, staggering slightly as she spun to find the source. The speaker was a master with a curious facemask and goggles attached to a head that Elena was at a loss for words to describe. Dressed in brown robes that seemed ubiquitous within the Jedi, his hands were steepled in front of him with a massive talon extending from the middle finger of each. “Assuming you are unable to return to your home planet, what then? Will you retain your neutrality? Word of your arrival is bound to get out eventually and to beings with more sway than the Jedi. What will you do then?”

_That_ was an excellent question. In all honesty, Elena didn’t know. She hadn’t planned on sticking around long enough to find out. With the abundance of technology surrounding her, the thought of being unable to return her to her galaxy had only fleetingly crossed her mind. Now, her lack of planning was biting her in the ass. Panic gripped her, an icy rage encasing her racing heart. She was well and truly stuck here for an unforeseen amount of time, and—everything came to a shuddering halt as a thought struck her. 

And Kenobi had known the entire time. They _all_ had known the entire time and hadn’t bothered to mention it.

Flames burning hotly beneath her skin a moment ago turned to ice. _No, no, no, no._ The word spiraled inside her skull. How would she get back? How did—

Stop.

She was trapped here with no way home.

_Stop. Breathe. Think._

Stone. She was stone. Air filled her lungs in a calming wave as Elena breathed deeply. She concentrated on reeling in her torrential emotions. Panic would bury her just as effectively as a shovel if she wasn’t careful.

_But—trapped?_ She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. There would be time enough to think about that later. Focus on the task at hand: avoid space prison.

Slowly, she said, “My end goal will always be to go home. In the meantime…” The words died on her lips as the full weight of being in a galaxy where she had no ID, money, or connections and technically didn’t even exist hit her square in the chest. This situation well and truly sucked.

The dark-skinned master raised an eyebrow, the silence stretching long as the Council waited for her to continue. Her options were limited at best: stay with the Jedi (if they would have her) or strike out on her own. Either way, it looked like she would have to find her own way back.

“In the meantime,” Elena continued, steeling herself as addressed the Council as a whole, “I would like to research a way back. As I said, I’m not involved in your war, but I’m willing to help where I can in return for the assistance your colleagues have given me.” Politeness dictated she say the last part, but the words still tasted bitter coming out. There _always_ seemed to be another war to fight. She wondered fleetingly if this was what Rogers felt like all the time. “In regards to your other concern, it is not the way of the Guardians to pledge allegiance to any but their home planet. If you’re worried about me going off and joining the highest bidder, don’t.” She directed the last words to the dark-skinned master in particular.

The masters studied her, no doubt weighing her sincerity, and static energy once more pricked at her consciousness. Not directed at her. No, this energy felt more _around_ her. Wisps of thought gliding smoothly through the air with no tangible body or sound. Kenobi had called it “consulting the Force,” but that didn’t seem right at the moment. This was a calling, a conversation of feelings, insubstantial touches, and phantom winds.

Though she marveled at the power, Elena tried not to dwell on it too much—that sense of being warmly wrapped in the soul of the universe. She had one job at the moment, and these Jedi and their Force were a means to an end.

A shiver traced down her spine in a slow caress as she recalled the dark _thing_ waiting for her as she attempted meditation in the antechamber. The malignant passiveness with which it seemed to view the world around it. That too had come from the Force.

The energy subsided after a moment, the air calming back to its normal state.

The dark-skinned master shared a nod with Master Yoda, the two coming to some unspoken agreement. The nod was echoed by Kenobi and the master next to him, continuing around the circle as each of the gathered masters weighed in. Elena felt her ears warming—her heart beating wildly in her chest as her fate was actively decided. She resisted the urge to turn around as the nodding extended past her peripheral vision.

The muscles in her shoulders began to burn, and the need to stretch her cramped back became an almost irresistible compulsion.

_Come on!_

The soft rustling of a cloak brought her attention back to the verdant grandmaster. Clawed hands rearranged their grip upon the crooked cane, lines creasing their backs in a veritable labyrinth of overlapping paths. Swathed in neutral brown and taupe, the creature was at odds with the pristine cleanliness and modern design of the city-planet—a being seemingly plucked from another time and place.

“Agreed, it is,” Master Yoda said, gravely voice echoing oddly off the smooth walls of the chamber. “Free, Guardian Hillard will remain. A threat, she does not pose to the Republic.”

The verdict, while gratifying, didn’t please Elena as much as she had hoped. She was free… Now what?

Elena belatedly realized they were waiting for her to speak.

Guardians didn’t bow, but Elena allowed her chin to dip marginally as she said formally, “Thank you, Masters. Your confidence in me is much appreciated.”

More nods were passed around and a few of the holographs clicked off, their absence noticeably dimming the room.

“You’re free to go Guardian Hillard. Padawan Tahn will see you out,” Kenobi said, indicating the double sliding doors through which she had entered.

_Wait. That was it?!_ There was one more thing Elena needed to address while she was here.

Elena shifted uncomfortably, clearing her throat as politely as she could. Instantly, she felt the focus of the room return to herself as the masters came out of whatever consultation they had been in a moment ago. A siren wailed in the distance, faint in the vibrant night of the city. Elena shifted her weight from foot to foot, glancing once at the ground before righting her position. _Stop fidgeting!_ _Just ask._ It wasn’t like she had any other options.

“Is there something else you wish to add Guardian Hillard?” Kenobi asked courteously.

“Yes.” Her answer came out slightly hoarse. Hastily clearing throat, she tried again. “Yes. I was wondering if, for the time being, I could be allowed to stay at the Temple? I’ll look for a job, and as soon as I can afford rent, I’ll be out of your hair.”

The last words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, her nerves getting the best of her. Elena was no stranger to couch surfing, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad about it.

The grand master’s curious chuckle filled the room once more. “Necessary, that will not be,” Master Yoda said, with what Elena could only guess was a smile crinkling the corners of his already crinkled eyes. “Stay here you will, Guardian Hillard.”

As soon as the doors to the council chamber shut behind the foreign guardian, and the remainder of the Council members had shuffled out to attend their other duties or catch a few hours of sleep, Master Windu turned to Yoda, piercing him with the same stare he had used on Hillard not half an hour ago.

“You know a person with Hillard’s powers cannot be kept a secret for long. When the Separatists find out, they will hunt her down, neutral or not, and that’s not even mentioning what the Senate will do.”

The elder master sighed, seemingly weighed down by the knowledge. “Hide her in plain sight, we will. Similar enough to pass as a Jedi, her powers are.”

“There are too many involved. Half the 501st saw her arrival. Questions will be asked. A surge in the Force that strong…” Windu trailed off shaking his head. “We won’t be the only ones to have felt it.”

“Dooku and his agents you mean.”

“To start.” The two masters sat in silence, the muffled sounds of the city beyond filling the still night air. The shroud that enveloped the Force was felt most strongly on Coruscant, its currents masked and murky to even the most experienced in the Order.

Windu dragged a hand down his face, eyes burning from lack of sleep as he looked at the grandmaster. “They will trace her here eventually.”

“Yes. Danger, there is, but prepared to meet it, we must be.”

The vague answer did little to satisfy Windu. He couldn’t help but think Yoda was being purposefully obtuse. “And when word of all this, gets out?”

“Then a friend, I hope we will have made in Guardian Hillard.”

The words hung in the air as Windu contemplated all that they implied. Word would get out, and soon the field would be full of those trying to get their hands on the guardian.

With no end in sight, the war was continuing to claim lives every day with no hope for peace. Maybe a new player was what was needed to turn the tide.


End file.
